


SOUL GLITCH

by ecstatic_shock



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Powers, Blood and Gore, Death, Human Experimentation, M/M, Psychological Torture, disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-04 10:11:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 67,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14590770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecstatic_shock/pseuds/ecstatic_shock
Summary: All Junmyeon wanted was to escape the people who tortured him and live the life his mother wanted for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-Prompt  
> Pairing: Suho/Chanyeol  
> Rating: E  
> Warnings: (Major Character) Death, Graphic Violence, Human Experimentation, Psychological Torture, Blood and gore, disturbing imagery  
> Author’s Note:  
> My lovely beta C: This fic would have been hopeless without you. I love you and your great work. Another thank you to the Mods, for creating this awesome fest. I put my soul into this, until I felt it glitch. MCs + antagonist based on Marvel characters. I hope you'll enjoy!

**It** was the first time he’d ever seen snow. Between the feelings of hurt, pain, anger and confusion, he found a moment to admire the landscape stretching in front of him. The clear white, untouched and perfect, gave him a feeling of purity in the heat of the moment - pure, calm, just snow. To him, while he struggled to keep a clear head, the snow really did have a peaceful effect. How the usually familiar environment had changed completely, into something he had never seen before, and it was so beautiful . . .

 

It was so beautiful, that even during the confusion and terror of his current situation, he found himself being ashamed. He was sure that he was damaging the landscape, white as far as the eye can see, with the red pool gathered around him, formed by the streams of liquid pain rushing from the two wounds on the knuckles of each of his hands. Not only that, but across his cheek stretched gaping marks of two big, bloody slits .The blood was everywhere, the metallic taste was confusing, his white shirt stained through and through.

 

He only had the clothes he wore that day, stained with the memories that day had brought.

 

His head hurt, a bell ringing inside his brain and pulsing against his temple. At the same time, the cold nagged at his skin. He had never been exposed to cold like this before. He had experienced heat, when he was punished, but he had never experienced something so cold it hurt. To some extent, this had become his new punishment. But he didn’t want to think about that, he wanted it to pass.

Behind him, the facility was on fire. Voices were heard from inside, but his brain blocked them out. His body was aching with fatigue, the pain in his knuckles numbing with the number of times he had been forced to draw the adamantium claws that he had been burdened with. Although he should’ve gotten used to it by now, it still hurt. And today, when everything piled up, it hurt the most.

 

His name was Junmyeon, and amidst all the feelings, the pain, his hollering mind, the sounds, the birds, the forest, the snow, the cold, the fire, the bodies, the blood, the screams, Junmyeon found nothing but emptiness.

 

It was cold, so cold, and yet his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Shoulders hanging, Junmyeon had troubles keeping his balance and his gait upright as he limped past the lifeless bodies scattered across the ground. _Are they not cold?_ Junmyeon wondered. He didn’t have enough time to think about them, because right now, he had to save himself. That’s what his mother had him promise before she sabotaged the facilities systems and set the laboratories on fire. It was her dying wish for Junmyeon to be safe. Junmyeon wanted to grant his mother this wish, but once he had recovered, he swore to himself that he would return to what this place had once been and take his mother with him. Deep down in his mind he knew it wasn’t possible, he also knew he couldn’t save the innocent people around him in the snow, but he didn’t realize that there was nothing to be done.

 

What he did realize, though, was that if he didn’t hurry, the survivors would catch up on him and his mother’s wish would not be completed.

 

“Mom,” Junmyeon choked, sight hazy with tears welling up in his eyes and his throat felt constricted. “Mom.”

 

He kept repeating this simple word while limping away from what seemed to have been his entire life, behind him in flames. Roaring and rising, as if they were growing especially fast just to draw him into their destruction—but he would not give in. If there was a day Junmyeon was ever strong, it had to be today. He had been created to be strong, he was naturally strong, but today was the only day he _tried hard_ to be strong, because he had promised, not because it was expected.

 

His body was heavy and aching, and thoughts were sprinting through his mind and were gone as soon as they had appeared. The thought that bothered him the most depicted himself going back to the laboratories—consenting to being their lab rat, just to avoid the consequences of this fire, the consequences of these deaths. It was easy, really easy, to turn his back on freedom and simply return to his creators. They wouldn’t punish him, for he was not to blame, but if they were to capture him during his attempt to flee, the aftermath could be fatal. After all, Junmyeon needed to do what was best for himself, and that seemed to be the easiest and least painful option. But his mother had begged and made him promise, and what kind of son would he be if he were to neglect his mother’s dying wish?

 

The smell of sulfur in the sky, the pulsing pain in his cheek and knuckles, the wobbliness of his knees that threatened collapse, the tears mingling with blood on his face—Junmyeon was so exhausted, yet aware of every move he made, every sound made around him, every branch he stepped on making his way to the woods. It was like sensory overload, except Junmyeon didn’t see it as such and only continued on haphazardly stumbling to a possibility of safety.

It was near. It wasn’t much further and Junmyeon would be able to hide beneath the trees inside a hollow tree trunk until the terror was over, until his mind had calmed down, and he wasn’t hurting anymore. But he was naïve to think that within a five hundred meter radius from a research facility on mutants, he’d be safe during a fire. Obviously, he needed to expect someone coming to attempt a rescue of the dying people inside. He shouldn’t have been surprised when he felt the bullet pierce through his skin, with so much pressure that the adamantium lacing his skeleton was deformed.

 

There was too much damage for his healing factor to work properly and fix him, so he was more aware of the pain of a bullet than he had ever been. In his feeble condition, what he once could have brushed off as merely a scratch now felt like it was killing him—it had been no regular bullet, but one made of the very metal that had protected him thus far. The pain in his shoulder spread to different parts of his body, taking his breath away. Junmyeon didn’t have enough strength to scream.

 

Junmyeon’s enhanced senses picked up fast movement from behind him. Although they had been too slow for the bullet, the person behind the trigger was nearing, and at least Junmyeon had been alarmed of that. He swiveled around with the last of his strength to see a woman closing in. She reloaded her pistol with another bullet with adamantium casing and pointed it at him, but when she saw his face, damaged by himself, his blood stained shirt and tears, she didn’t shoot. She saw how much of a mess Junmyeon was, and so she didn’t bother take the precautions she was ordered to take. Instead, she bared a malicious smile and picked up her pace, reaching Junmyeon who was past his breaking point within seconds.

 

Silence. There was silence when the woman pointed the gun at his forehead, she herself standing barely half a meter away from him, the tip of the weapon not palpable due to the cold numbing his face. Secretly, she was surprised to see Junmyeon close his eyes, ready to die. He knew a regular bullet wouldn’t do this job. But just before the woman was able to pull the trigger, she was taken by surprise once more:

 

Junmyeon drew his metal claws, the lethal weapons hidden in his skin, and let them emerge from his knuckles. Two thirty centimeter long claws buried themselves in the woman’s stomach, the last thing she heard was Junmyeon’s cry, as if he was more pained by the action than she was, when he jerked his arm downwards. Before she fell on top of Junmyeon and buried him beneath her corpse, she coughed up silver blood that landed on Junmyeon’s face and blinded him.

 

He lay beneath her, and he was sure his death was now inevitable. He had disappointed his mother.

 

“Mom,” Junmyeon cried, gritting his teeth and raising the hand he had used to kill the woman. It seemed that he had no control over it, he could not withdraw his claws and so he was forced to stare at what had gotten him into all of this chaos in the first place.

 

“Mom,” His mother was all that was on his mind now, lying on the ground, clothing now not only soaked by his’ and the woman’s blood, but also by the snow that quickly turned into ice water at their touch. He cried as he attempted to wiggle out from under the woman, but it was no use—his strength was only enough to make him hate his very being for disobeying his mother’s order.

 

The clawed hand was still raised, and Junmyeon’s anger overtook him.

 

He buried his claws in the dead woman’s side and cried. The wound on his cheek had stopped bleeding, but it seemed that it now bled tears. His tears mingled with the blood and made it watery, the dark red turning lighter and lighter until it resembled a red that was achieved when a painter first dipped his brush into a glass of water, filled to the rim. He removed the claws from her barely bleeding skin only to stab her again, again, and again.

 

The only word in his vocabulary was the name the facility had forbidden him to call Kim Yubin. He had only been an experiment all this time, his mother only a surrogate to the wicked scientists. In the end, she did decide to do the right thing—put a stop to this, and give Junmyeon an opportunity to live, for the first time. _To live_.

 

Without her, but it was something. Things were never going to be normal for Junmyeon, a live weapon created to be rented by corrupt businesses for a high price to assassinate whoever they wished. Junmyeon was merely a tool. The scientists had forbidden anyone to treat him like a baby when he was such, forbidden anyone to treat him like a child when he was such, forbidden anyone to be there for him and comfort him when his bone claws emerged for the first time with puberty and cried for days. And now, an adult, no one had been allowed to treat him as a fellow human being.

 

To them, Junmyeon was an animal. One that was worth a hell lot of money. They were the same people who wanted all mutants to be killed, claiming they were dangerous and giving religious reasoning, but took DNA samples of notorious mutants and used those to create a clone for their assassinations. It was kind of brilliant—if Junmyeon had been caught, all blame was on him and no business or research facility was associated with him. _Mutants were dangerous_. This common mindset was taken advantage of all the time.

 

But it was over, anyway. If his healing factor didn’t do its job, the cold would deal with him. He didn’t know if he wanted to continue living this life—he’d be on the run, all alone, no money, no other belongings, and six claws that singled him out as a freak. He didn’t have to use the claws anymore, though. Even if nobody was able to see them, he felt them, and to him it was like they were exposed to everyone.

 

It was better like this. It would have happened sooner or later anyway, without the woman shooting him, without him killing her, without him being trapped beneath her, strengthless. He would have given in to the cold anyway.

 

And here he lay.

 

He had lost count of how many times he hurt himself by raising his clawed hand and sinking it into the woman’s flesh. Was it anger he had let out? Or was it a desperate attempt to prove he was still strong? No way, if he was, he would have lived. He didn’t live.

 

Junmyeon rested still. The body on top of him felt like a thick, stiff wooden plank with hair. Her head, resting on his shoulder, was tilted in a way that allowed her nose to lightly dig into his neck. The chattering of his teeth was so loud and violent, that he barely heard himself sob. In fact, he didn’t hear anything except the slight crackling of the snow when he moved his head.

 

Junmyeon suffered. Every bone in his body hurt, and one shiver after another shook him as the cold stabbed his skin like icy needles. He only wore a simple white shirt that was barely visible on his skin now, and black pants that were nearly frozen to his legs.

 

His breath came in short huffs, and Junmyeon closed his eyes. Tears continued to stream from the corners of his eyes into his black hair. Between the chattering of his teeth, Junmyeon mumbled incoherent gibberish. He didn’t know why it took so long. But at the end of the day, he was still supposed to be an invincible weapon modelled after ‘ _Wolverine’_. He didn’t know Wolverine. But whoever it was, he was responsible for his death. And maybe he wasn’t as invincible as everyone made him out to be.

 

“What did I do,” Junmyeon choked out. “What did I do?”

 

Time passed. It wasn’t clear how much, but it felt like an eternity to Junmyeon. He hadn’t left this world yet, but he was halfway there. At this point, he was barely aware of anything: he watched the black of his eyelids as he listened to the uneven beat of his heart. He didn’t try to deny the fact that it was slowly dropping. Junmyeon just wanted it to be over, he hated his stamina, he hated the mutant gene.

He opened his eyes one last time.

 

The sun had set and the first few stars twinkled in the sky. If his face had not been completely frozen, he would’ve tried to curl his lips into a little smile.

Although the facility preferred Junmyeon to work at night, he was always too focused on his target to pay attention to his surroundings. Now that he did, he found the soft blue hue that was slightly darkening to be very comforting—as if it would swallow him whole once the sky had become pitch black, and when the day was gone, so was he. The stars would be there to guide him.

 

It started snowing, and soft little snowflakes swirled around, hovering over him before landing on his face. He didn’t feel nor see it, but the snowflakes aligned on the right side of his face to form some kind of patch, and then they transformed. What had been porous tiny flakes, hardened to create an eyepatch out of pure, transparent crystal. There was a pattern which appeared to be engraved into the glass, which looked like flowers. The entirety of it twinkled in competition with the stars. Had Junmyeon been conscious, he would have heard the twinkling make a sound. It gradually became faster until the soft _pling!_ resembled an alarm. And had he been alive, he would have felt the weight of the woman lifted off of him.

 

The crystal on his temple extended to cover his wounds on his cheek in their shapes, and when it withdrew, there were no wounds left in the first place.

 

It stretched back behind his head, down the nape of his neck, and circled the hole that was left when the woman had shot him. Once again it covered it, and when it withdrew the adamantium bullet was now buried beneath his body, not inside, and the wound was gone.

 

The black inside of his eyelids lightened until it was completely white.

 

...

 

He sat up, his head buzzing. Junmyeon’s sight was blurry, and his temples throbbed a beat that rivaled his hearts’. It took awhile for Junmyeon’s vision to return in full focus. When it did, he couldn’t help but be baffled. _Why am I alive?_

 

The happenings from before all returned to his memory. How long had it been? Was it hours, days, weeks? Junmyeon wasn’t sure if he was happy that his healing factor kicked in and saved his life at the last minute. But when he remembered his mother’s last wish, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of delight.

 

Slowly, he started becoming more aware of his surroundings. The woman he had fought wasn’t there anymore. He noticed the environment had suddenly adopted a warm climate. It was strange to him, because usually the genetics of Wolverine he had been given allowed him to be exceptionally perceptive. But now everything was coming to him one by one.

 

He noticed he was sitting inside of a rectangular construction that resembled an aquarium tank, just as long as he was tall, without glass. Lukewarm water sloshed over his legs, but it was nowhere enough to fill an entire aquarium. The metallic taste of his blood was no longer there, but was replaced by saltiness, presumably from the water he was soaked in. His clothing was no longer stained red, but clean as ever. Junmyeon felt refreshed and more alive than ever. Nothing hurt and it was as if all the pain he felt had been washed away by the water that soaked his clothes and surrounded him.

 

Junmyeon touched his cheek, and let his hand wander where the wounds he had created himself had once been. He felt a rock in his chest when the intensity of the last events he remembered struck him. It had been truly horrifying—he wasn’t sure what to do now. Under circumstances that were created by his usual life, Junmyeon would have gone into full defense mode, claws drawn and senses sharp if he woke up in an unfamiliar environment like this one. But right now, Junmyeon felt nothing but calm when he listened to the faint sloshing of the water around his legs and he contemplated staying here forever.

 

There was one light source, above Junmyeon’s position, and though it should have reflected onto the rest of the location, it didn’t illuminate the entire room. Everything outside of the pedestal on which the aquarium was placed remained pitch black.

 

Of course that created a certain eeriness, about not knowing what waited in the dark beyond his location, but Junmyeon felt so safe and warm that he didn't mind at all.

 

Watching the dust particles spinning around in the air in front of him, Junmyeon woke from the trance he had fallen in.

 

The sudden urge to leave the place hit him; contradicting the feeling of safety he had just minutes before. But there was something to the thought of exploring the place he was in. He hoped to find temporary shelter somewhere so he could recover from the events from before.

 

Stumbling through the darkness, Junmyeon felt no need to be frightened. Any step he took was instinctive and he expected his feet to carry him to whatever his destination was, as he was  programmed to find an exact spot, even if Junmyeon was unaware of it himself. His body had been programmed to do and react to many things, and going on a search for a certain location felt just as natural as the _Trigger Scent_ had always felt. The Trigger Scent was a substance poured onto his targets, and once he had picked up the smell, there was no controlling the desire to kill whoever smelled of it. It had become natural, and used way too often, but the effect remained the same.

 

When Junmyeon ran into an obstacle with extended hands—a dead end. However, the wall against his fingers felt like polished wood, it would have been a significant bit colder if it were made out of metal or another material. Experimentally, Junmyeon ran his hands down the wall—he had nothing to be afraid of, had he? Groping his hands along the flawless surface, Junmyeon discovered a round door knob.

 

Junmyeon didn’t know the knob belonged to an extremely special door—it was crafted by someone peculiar, for Junmyeon, and only for Junmyeon. There was someone who waited for him, somewhere at the end of the line, and all Junmyeon had to do . . .

 

He grabbed the round door knob, turned it and took his first step forward. He let out a surprised yelp when his foot encountered absolutely _nothing_ , and Junmyeon lost his balance and fell forward.

 

He remembered his training and skills as he was caught in the free fall. Junmyeon grit his teeth when he drew his claws and tears welled up in his eyes immediately—he had drawn them so often in the past, it only ever felt like an old wound reopening. At this very moment, Junmyeon was transported back into the age of thirteen where his claws had first responded and surfaced due to emotional stimulation. It hurt just as much as it did back then, but as an adult Junmyeon found the old pain less overwhelming and rather surprising, so much that the violence with which his heart stung allowed the fear from the day prior to return.

 

Junmyeon swiveled around in the dark and attempted to bury his clawed hands in the wall. The attempt was successful, though Junmyeon was taken by surprise again: the wall was made out of a strange sponge-like material and Junmyeon’s claws cut right through it, barely providing any stability, but Junmyeon was desperate to hold on. It cost a lot of strength, but Junmyeon managed to shift his weight forward, creating the illusion of a stable hold. It didn’t last long.

 

The sponge material was so porous and light, Junmyeon’s balance was lost within seconds of his journey downwards into the unknown. He fell backwards and was forced to hope he would be saved.

 

Pitch blackness surrounded him as he fell. The wind created by the fall blew through his hair and made his clothes flutter. The wind was warm, just as the water from before, and created an obscure feeling of safety in this life-threatening situation. The warmth rushed over his skin and left a tingly sensation behind.

Junmyeon fell for an eternity.

 

 _After all my fighting, this is where I end up_. Junmyeon thought. _It happened so fast_. Junmyeon had believed his dying day had come, and he had been ready to welcome it with open arms. After that, he was granted another chance to live, peculiar and obscure, in a place he had never been to and with an atmosphere that was almost too perfects. Slowly, Junmyeon started to piece opinions and solid thoughts together, collecting all the scattered pieces of his mind.

 

Suddenly everything felt as scary as it should have from the moment he had opened his eyes after his death’s arrival.

 

A feeling of panic gathered as a hot mess in his stomach and wandered upwards, Junmyeon’s face heated up and the thoughts he’d painstakingly stuck together threatened to fall apart again.

 

This was wrong.

 

Something was going on, and he would not accept it. He would lean hard against anything that tried to push him back. Because this was what his mother expected from him.

 

Although his position had been horizontal, he felt himself set upright and something solidified beneath his feet. He stood on hard ground.

 

The environment changed and the darkness shaped itself into a dim field. Pole like, black plants surrounded him and light came from the ground, different bright colours changing rapidly and putting his white shirt and face into different shades. The plants were so tall; they reminded him of the corn mazes he had to smell his way through when he was still a lab rat.

 

His knees almost gave away beneath his weight when he took a moment to collect himself. He felt giddy, the world rotating around him, and Junmyeon stumbled a few steps back. His back met the plants, which surprisingly didn’t give away, but offered stability instead.

 

He was out of breath. What was this place? Junmyeon silently wondered, reliving the events from before, trying to pierce everything together so that it made sense. But it didn’t make sense.

 

Junmyeon realized his claws were still out, and used them to cut his way free. He sliced through the plants and phosphorescent blue liquid streamed out of the remains. With every swing, Junmyeon cut down a bunch of those plants and was able to move forward fairly fast. But every time he swung, only more plants appeared. His swinging became more violent by each take and then Junmyeon found himself uncontrollably stabbing into the plants like a maniac, teeth bared like a feral animal —all traits he’d inherited from Wolverine.

 

His next swing almost slashed a man’s chest open.

 

Junmyeon managed to stop his arm mid air, centimeters away from the fabric of the man’s shirt, but he didn’t withdraw his claws. He had learned: no matter _what_ , no matter _who_ , do _not_ withdraw your claws. But from one second to the other, the man was gone. He had disappeared into thin air.

 

Junmyeon frowned and looked around. The field of black plants and the colourful floor seemed endless, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Junmyeon slowly lowered his arm, but didn’t relax; and right in front of him, one of the black plants turned into the man from before.

 

“Who are you?” The man asked, warily eyeing Junmyeon’s clawed hand. The latter couldn’t blame him, he was sure the sight was startling, but he still didn’t let his guard down.

 

He was no longer X’O, but still he felt unsure if he should reveal his identity to the man, yet. Instead, he returned the question to him. “Who are you?”

 

The man raised his eyebrows. “My name is Chanyeol. You should be careful with those, you could hurt someone! Or me, for that matter.” He pouted, and Junmyeon thought it was strange. But he didn’t let it affect him, and remained indifferent towards him.

 

Junmyeon gave in, then. “Junmyeon. My name.”

 

“How did you do that?” Junmyeon asked him, pointing the claw over his index finger at Chanyeol. Chanyeol tilted his head and stared back at him, confusion written all over his face.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Turn into one of the plants.”

 

Chanyeol’s face lit up with realization. His plump, pink lips parted for a pretty grin. “Oh, that! That’s easy. Look—”

 

And suddenly, Junmyeon was staring at himself. He didn’t know how Chanyeol had done it—one second he was Chanyeol, and there hadn’t been any sort of transition when he shapeshifted to become Junmyeon.

 

Shortly after, Chanyeol turned back into his usual self. “That’s what I do. It’s what I do best, in fact!”

 

Junmyeon was surprised at how proud Chanyeol looked about his ability to shapeshift. Child-like, innocent, he seemed to exaggerate his feelings towards his power—or maybe it wasn’t even that, maybe he was just really, really proud of himself. Junmyeon remembered something, and was alarmed. “You’re a magical being.”

 

“Magical being!” Chanyeol laughed. Junmyeon didn’t know what was so funny; he was serious and he couldn’t understand or detect any comical tone behind his own words.

 

Chanyeol continued. “There’s no such thing as magic, Jun! I’m a mutant, of course. Just like you.” His smile was mesmerizing; it was so pure and gentle, Junmyeon was sure it could solve all problems in the world. And _Jun_ —what kind of nickname was that? It was strange to be treated so gently by a stranger, especially one he had meant to attack. Even though the nickname had thrown him out of his mind, Junmyeon stood calmly and continued.

 

“Magical beings don’t exist?” He asked. The facility had always told him to beware and avoid them; now Chanyeol told him they didn’t exist at all? He was unsure of what to believe, and anticipated Chanyeol’s reply. Chanyeol thought for awhile; he took his time to respond, and Junmyeon waited.

 

“I find it very curious that you don’t know! I thought us mutants were known for trying to convince the . . . regular homo sapiens of the fact that we’re not god’s mystical creation sent from hell!” Chanyeol said, soft smile never leaving his face.

 

Junmyeon frowned. It was true to some extent, he had never engaged in the attempts of correcting the world’s racism towards mutants, but he had certainly heard. However, he wouldn’t have thought it to be as extreme as Chanyeol described it to be. His word choice was strange, especially spoken that casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world—well, considering Junmyeon had been surrounded by people who used his existence to their benefit, he might’ve not seen it the same way in the first place.

 

He wanted to give a reply, but Chanyeol didn’t let him; he tensed up when Chanyeol grabbed his arm and started dragging him the direction Junmyeon had been aiming to go for. He was tempted to bury his claws in Chanyeol’s flesh, an awful reflex he had whenever a stranger he wasn’t supposed to be associated with initiated any kind of contact. Instead, he let Chanyeol drag him away, but he forced himself to stay alarmed—he used his enhanced smell and hearing to stay in control and try to predict an ambush or anything of the sort.

 

“Where are we going?” Junmyeon forced himself to ask, watching the back of Chanyeol’s head as they walked. The plants parted in front of him and bounced off of him; Chanyeol didn’t make any attempts to free their path of the plants.

 

“Out of here!” Chanyeol simply responded.

 

“What does ‘out of here’ mean exactly?” He didn’t know how Chanyeol could dodge his questions and their meaning so easily.

 

“Silly you, Jun! ‘ _Out of here_ ’ means somewhere else than here!” Chanyeol chuckled. “Then we can try to find out of here!”

 

Junmyeon stopped walking, and Chanyeol was forced to do so, too. He swiveled around to face Junmyeon who was staring at him warily. What did he mean, ‘try to find out of here’? Did that mean Chanyeol had no idea what he was doing? Junmyeon freed his arm from Chanyeol’s firm grip on his wrist. “So we’re . . . trapped somewhere. And you don’t know how to get out.”

 

Chanyeol shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to get out, either. I was hoping that we could figure it out together—”

 

“You really hoped that.”

 

“Of course,” Chanyeol was confused. “I’m sure we can help each other, can’t we?”

 

Junmyeon found himself utterly perplexed. Chanyeol was dependent on him and expected his help—he didn’t even know Junmyeon, but he already trusted him enough to assume they were going to be together when they find out how to leave. _If_ they found out.

 

He hesitated. He hadn’t had the time to think about where he could’ve landed, but it was obvious someone brought him here. Junmyeon knew his healing factor always kicked in, even when he didn’t expect it to anymore as he was lying in the snow, and so he had to have been taken somewhere to heal. But where was it? And who did it?

 

Agreeing to Chanyeol’s self-evident request seemed the most sensible option to Junmyeon, after taking his situation and origin into consideration. But he needed to ask something first. “Is there no one else here?”

 

Chanyeol shook his head again. “I’ve been here for a long time, I’ve never met anyone before. You’re the first.”

 

“All by yourself?”

 

“Yes. All by myself, but not anymore, right, Jun?” Chanyeol beamed at him. He was so pure and gentle, Junmyeon didn’t understand.

 

He was unsure if he could fully trust Chanyeol, but he needed someone to help him find out—or at least find who’s responsible—as well. He had first considered that Chanyeol might be the one responsible, but something told him that he couldn’t have been. Chanyeol was too

 

…

 

He nodded. “I will help you.” Junmyeon might have agreed, but he remained suspicious. He would put his trust into Chanyeol for now, but he wasn’t going to let his guard down anytime soon.

 

When Chanyeol reached out to grab his wrist again, Junmyeon suggested that he’d just follow him from now on. It was unnecessary for Chanyeol to keep dragging him around, and as they have established some form of beneficial relationship, Junmyeon was willing to do as Chanyeol said. It was fast paced, but nothing was too early if it meant Junmyeon could leave this place.

 

Chanyeol walked confidently—he seemed to exactly know where they were heading, but Junmyeon figured it was due to the period of time he had spent here before him. He wondered; for how long had Chanyeol been stuck here, enough to develop a confident sense of direction? Junmyeon wanted to ask, but restrained himself. He wanted to get closer to Chanyeol first, but even though it seemed like a good place to start, he thought Chanyeol should better tell him himself.

 

Chanyeol led him through the last batch of plants, and they had now reached a paved path, horizontally stretching out in front of them. The stone was sparkling, soft and white, and Chanyeol turned to face him again.

 

“Diamond path. Left or right?” He asked. “Where would you like to go first?”

 

Junmyeon checked; both directions showed the same landscape, black plants everywhere, as far as the eye could see, occasional colourful lights flashing. Chanyeol giving him a choice made him anxious, he had thought Chanyeol would take him somewhere they could talk properly—but then he realized; Chanyeol had no idea where they were  himself. He’s never met anyone to tell him where they were.

 

“You’ve walked both directions?”

 

Chanyeol nodded. “Well, technically I came from there,” Chanyeol pointed right. “But I’ve been at the end as well.”

 

“Why were you in the field then? You could’ve just kept walking the path,” Junmyeon pointed out.

 

Chanyeol smiled, and it almost looked sad. “Like I said, I’ve done that already, Jun. I was looking for a different way, and then I met you.”

 

Junmyeon understood. It made sense, and he was impressed that Chanyeol hadn’t given up unlike he had the day  … the week … the month before? He had no idea how much time had passed.

 

“Say, how long have you been stuck here?” Junmyeon asked him, at last. He had wanted to wait, but Chanyeol needed to tell him. Chanyeol didn’t seem to be hesitant or uncomfortable with the answer.

 

“I’m twenty-five now. I’ve been stuck here since twenty-one. Of course I can’t be sure of how old I am, but I started counting days ever since I woke up here. I just took the time that had passed since my last birthday, and kept adding to it!” Chanyeol said, proudly.

 

Junmyeon’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a lot.”

 

Chanyeol waved it off and pointed left. “I’ve gotten used to it, Jun. Wanna go this way? That’s where I would go!”

 

Junmyeon nodded, barely noticeable. Chanyeol _was_ going that way, after all. The tall man smiled and picked up the path, with Junmyeon in tow.

 

The latter took his time analyzing their path, but the ocean of black plants didn’t seem to end. Instead, Junmyeon turned his attention to the “diamond path”, like Chanyeol had called it.

 

Clear, white crystal beneath his feet, twinkling after his every step. He could’ve sworn every twinkle was accompanied by a _pling!_ noise, as if he had tapped the crystal with his metal claws.

 

The air around them was exceptionally clean as well; Junmyeon recalled the feeling of inhaling all of the smoke when the facility caught fire. In comparison, the air was as clear as the diamonds beneath his feet. Junmyeon could swear that it wasn’t just simple air around them, but that it was also made slightly heavier by a faint smell. Junmyeon recognized the smell, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

 

His eyes shot to Chanyeol, who he caught staring at him as they walked. Junmyeon raised his eyebrows, and Chanyeol responded with another smile. His deep dimples were mesmerizing to look at, and Junmyeon quickly averted his eyes, obviously more uncomfortable staring at his companion than vice versa.

 

Chanyeol hummed softly, but he didn’t make conversation. Junmyeon thought he’d be the kind to brabble away at all times, but the semi-silence between them was surprisingly pleasant.

 

...

 

A fork at the end of the path caused them to come to a halt.

 

“This is strange,” Chanyeol said, panic in his voice. Junmyeon was alarmed; even Chanyeol, who’d explored the place for four years, felt something strange about their path?

 

“What is strange, Chanyeol?” Junmyeon tried to determine and evaluate the situation before he acted.

 

Chanyeol scratched the back of his head. “There was a house here. I found it empty, and no one ever showed up, so I decided to live here for as long as I am trapped . . .”

 

 _A house?_ Junmyeon saw a fork, each path leading deeper into the world, it seemed. A house inside the field of black plants would have been a strange sight, too. Then again, he doubted anything was impossible here.

 

“Where do I live now?” Chanyeol whined. “I’ve never seen this! Jun, what do you say?”

 

He was unprepared for the question; he barely knew anything about their location in the first place, how was he supposed to know where Chanyeol’s house went?

 

Junmyeon took a step rather in the direction of the left path, and tried to glance in between the plants to perhaps spot something unusual. It was his first instinct, and seemed useless.

 

“So where do you suggest to go?” Junmyeon asked his companion. The latter was buried deep in thought, as if the fifty-fifty choice was too much of a trouble: the paths looked exactly the same, and from what Junmyeon had seen, they probably continued just like that. He thought, until he saw something on the floor.

 

“Next to your feet.” Chanyeol turned to see what Junmyeon pointed at. There was a crumpled piece of paper on the floor. It was blue, rather big, like a poster. Chanyeol picked it up and unfolded it, scanning the words.

 

Junmyeon walked over and peered over his shoulder. Small, black handwriting graced the page; a block of text much longer than expected. The paper read:

 

_I’m sure you must have a lot of questions, and I will be there to answer them. All you have to do is come and get me. It might sound easy, but I can’t promise that it will be. Actually, I could, but I won’t. Simply because I don’t know if I will make it easy or not._

_At the end of the day, I do hope that you’ll find the way and meet me soon. But I don’t have control over everything, you know?_

_Anyway, I’m sure you two will get along well. It’ll be a challenge, but I think you two would make a great team. Everything has a purpose, so think thoroughly before you act._

_Before you decide to come find me, which I really hope you do, I need to inform you about a few things._

_First, the way is actually really easy to find. You only have to follow the river that should appear soon, if you just keep walking._

_Second, don’t be so naive._

_Third, don’t bathe in or drink from the river. That would just ruin everything. Believe me when I say that. After all, I’m your only source of information, so it’d be best for you to trust my words._

 

_Or stay here. I don’t mind._

 

_And last but not least, pay attention._

 

Chanyeol flipped the paper.

 

_It’s not selfish to ask for something in return, right, Junmyeon?_

 

The taller mutant eyed Junmyeon.

Junmyeon stared at the cursive handwriting on the piece of paper for a little longer; it only showed his name, but he tried to imagine why exactly the author addressed _him_ directly, out of the two.  
  
"What do you say?" Chanyeol finally asked, folding the paper neatly and tucking it into the pocket of his dark jeans.  
  
Junmyeon tried to sort out his thoughts about the letter, attempting to decipher what it meant. The last part of the letter was especially confusing. "Have you . . . have you gotten something like this before?" _Obviously not_ , Junmyeon thought.  
  
Chanyeol shook his head. "This is the first time I see something like this, Jun."  
  
Junmyeon didn't want to give in to the author's demand right away. They were asked—or, more specifically, he was asked—to follow the river, but there was no river in sight; where would they go? Even Chanyeol was unfamiliar with the fork in the path, and without Chanyeol he wouldn't know how to navigate through this place efficiently, anyways.  
  
But the letter gave their stay purpose, Junmyeon figured. He had been unable to reason just _why_ exactly he had woken up here; only _how_.  
  
"From what I understand, I'm here because the author is asking for something in return for . . ." For what? Junmyeon lost his train of thought.  
  
Chanyeol looked just as clueless. They didn't know if this place was all peaceful, or if it was menacing after all. They didn't know what purpose this place served, not even Chanyeol, who'd been stuck here for way longer than Junmyeon had been.

  
And yet, just shortly after his arrival, Junmyeon was contacted.  
He looked at Chanyeol.

  
Chanyeol had been forced to stay here without notice, without help, all by himself . . . for four years. Junmyeon was here for barely .  . . barely an hour? He didn't know, but it didn't compare to the amount of time his new friend had been forced to be here.

  
He felt guilty all of a sudden, and whatever the trip would bring, if it was bad, Chanyeol was undeserving of it.  
  
"Chanyeol . . . if I go, then you don't have to come with me, you know that? We don't know what is expecting us."  
  
But his friend looked at him as if he had just grown two more heads. "No, I'm coming with you. They called us a team, have you forgotten? It's alright."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Chanyeol didn't give a verbal reply, but in order to emphasize his opinion, Chanyeol seized the courage to march down the path the letter had been bordering on, where he presumed the river to be.  
  
Junmyeon walked after him and stopped him by grabbing his shoulders and turning him around to face him. "Don't be so reckless, Chanyeol! Be careful."  
  
"It won't be so bad! I've never experienced anything bad here, or anything at all, really."

Junmyeon didn’t find any kind of bitterness in Chanyeol’s tone; he was in an unfortunate situation, but Chanyeol spoke so lightly of it.

With that, they picked up the path that didn't stray from the first one's appearance in any way.  
Junmyeon fixated his gaze on the diamond path again, giving his eyes a break from the pole-like blackness as they walked.

 

 _I can’t believe it_ , Junmyeon thought, silent next to Chanyeol. _Everything happens so fast._

With his shoulder occasionally brushing Chanyeol’s arm, he first noticed how tall Chanyeol actually was.

 

Buried in thought, Junmyeon recalled his time at the facility. He was unable to draw any conclusions or find any connections with the current happenings, which had been his first assumption. It seemed the author of the letter wanted him and Chanyeol … simply because they’re Junmyeon and Chanyeol. It was new, to be wanted as a person, and not as a tool.

  


-

  


The project was a total success.

 

Twenty five years ago, Weapon-X was first created. The idea behind Weapon X was to create the perfect weapon with help of Wolverine’s DNA.

Wolverine was the perfect mutant to clone for the project, with his healing ability, ageless appearance, and claws—four tools in each of his hands, laced with an expensive and unbreakable metal, adamantium.

 

The scientists were able to collect some of his DNA and prepare it for the conception of Weapon X. Picking one Y chromosome, one X chromosome and female scientist Kim Yubin, the scientists were able to create Kim Junmyeon, or how they called him, X'O. Theoretically, they could have raised an identical clone of Wolverine by removing the genetical information from the egg cell; by not doing this, Junmyeon resembled Kim Yubin a lot, and it made him her legitimate son.

 

And then the money started flooding the facility. Companies were allowed to book X'O to assassinate the CEO of their rival company, or he was hired to assassinate politicians, unfaithful partners—whoever someone with enough money wished to die, X'O was there to make sure it happened.

 

In order for the organization to remain secret, the widespread opinion “Mutants are dangerous, mutants must be killed” was taken advantage of.

 

The scientists had _bred_ a mutant, a person, to correspond to their expectations and fulfill whatever task they made his responsibility, and the back-up plan for if X'O was caught? There was None.

Because X'O was a mutant, and the police would kill him the instant they got the chance to. Even if he was put on trial, he was programmed to never reveal any information about his creators.

And if that happened, they would just continue with their project at the time. It was as simple as that.

 

-

 

Buried in thought, Junmyeon was taken aback when there was a change in what he perceived, and his environment presented significant changes.

 

The crystal beneath their feet slowly turned into actual stone, grey and flat; the sky above them became a soft purple, and the clouds resembled cotton candy.

A colorful playground stretched in front of them with slides, seesaws—everything.

Junmyeon was in awe; the colors were so beautiful, and _there_.

Finally, a river was in sight. The author of the letter had told them to follow the river in order to find them, and so far, they had not stumbled upon a river, but there it was!

 

There it was, among the colours and playful atmosphere, it shone bright blue. The river was so wide, Junmyeon was unable to see the river bank on the other side.

Along the river bank on their side of the river, toys were scattered around. Video games. In fact, everything considered youthful was to be found.

 

“This is awesome!” Chanyeol marveled, and looked around, seemingly taking in every little detail.

 

Junmyeon wasn’t as happy with the change, though. Sure, it was new, it was different—but Junmyeon couldn’t help but have a bad feeling. The atmosphere was so endlessly positive, there had to be something wrong with it.

 

“I think we need to take some time to consider the surroundings. Or we stick to the plan and keep following the river. What do you think?” Junmyeon finally spoke, frowning as he inspected the playground in front of them.

 

Chanyeol tapped Junmyeon’s shoulder to get his attention. “Check this out!”

 

Junmyeon looked at him and watched as Chanyeol’s black hair turned light blue, and one of his eyes became a soft red. His black pants and black shirt were replaced by a white shirt, a blue jacket and matching blue pants. His appearance matched the environment now, and Junmyeon could have sworn even the pink of his lips was more vibrant now. While he shape-shifted, Chanyeol beamed at Junmyeon; nothing new. His smile was truly never-ending.

 

Chanyeol looked different, yet still familiar. The monochrome Chanyeol Junmyeon had first met was now a colourful and bright young man, who matched his out-for-fun-attitude even more. Junmyeon thought he looked great.

 

He got up and they proceeded walking. Junmyeon inspected every toy and playground they passed. He noticed that the smell from earlier was still there, but mixed with something sweet. He still couldn’t identify the smell, and the sweet scent layering it made it even harder.

He tried hard to think of what it could be, but was pulled out of thought when someone behind them cleared his throat.

 

“Excuse me!”

 

Junmyeon and Chanyeol swirled around to face whoever had spoken, alarmed.

 

But they were simply greeted by a young boy.

 

He had bright blue hair, just like Chanyeol, and was wearing a Boy Scout’s uniform. The similarity with Chanyeol’s outfit was uncanny, a coincidence that puzzled Junmyeon.

 

Chanyeol stared at him—quizzical, and he shot Junmyeon a glance as if to say _“I’ve never seen him before!”_ and Junmyeon withdrew his claws upon looking into probably the most innocent face he’s ever seen. Deep down, hidden somewhere in his mind, something told him that the most innocent faces were the ones he should fear most; at that point, however, Junmyeon was unable to even consider the possibility.

 

“Who are you?” Chanyeol asked, smile returning to his face. He was very outgoing; he had welcomed Junmyeon as well . . .  

 

“My name is Jisung, Sir!” The boy beamed and bowed to them. His blue hair fell into his face, but Jisung didn’t bother removing it. Junmyeon thought he looked like a small mouse, with bright coloured hair.

 

Jisung extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sir!”

 

Chanyeol took his right hand and shook it; Jisung reached over his arm to shake Junmyeon’s hand at the same time. Junmyeon was surprised—how the boy stood there, shaking two people’s hands simultaneously with crossed arms as if it wasn’t totally ridiculous.

 

Jisung released their hands and pointed at his uniform. “I’m a Boy Scout in the group Dream of Dream City. Can I ask for your help receive my next badge?”

 

Junmyeon shook his head. “I’m sorry, kid, but we have to keep going.”

 

Chanyeol smacked his shoulder. “How can you be so mean! Let’s help him~”

 

He sighed. Chanyeol was too kind for his own good. Junmyeon just wanted to find whoever, or whatever, had brought them here, and get it over with. He hadn’t expected to meet Chanyeol, let alone any child or other people. Junmyeon was used to working with time limit, and he wondered if there was one too. He doubted it, considering how long Chanyeol had been here.

 

“Can I count on you, Sir?” Jisung spoke, eyeing Junmyeon. He tried to ignore Chanyeol’s expectant gaze in his neck, but after a while, he gave in.

 

“Fine. What do we have to do?”

 

Jisung pointed at the river. “My next badge is live-saving. If you could pretend to be drowning so that I can use my knowledge on you, that’d be very kind!”

 

Chanyeol frowned. Like Junmyeon, he remembered the note saying to not get involved with the river in any way. Yet, this boy seemed too friendly and innocent to be up to something that would upset the writer of the note. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Junmyeon settled on asking, testing Jisung.

 

The Boy Scout nodded confidently. He marched over to the riverbank and kneeled down; Jisung reached through the cotton mist and into the water.

Junmyeon and Chanyeol watched him, but they didn’t follow him to the bank.

 

A few moments later, and Jisung returned. “The water isn’t cold, Sir! We could easily do it and get it over with. I’d be very grateful.”

 

Chanyeol scratched the back of his head and shot his friend a glance. They silently agreed to play along in a way that wouldn’t reveal the contents of the note, or that there was a note at all. Maybe Jisung knew, but they couldn’t be sure. “Where’s your supervisor, though?”

 

“We can’t and won’t do anything without your supervisor, Jisung,” Junmyeon remarked. He didn’t want to be a part of the boy’s badge, and he needed an excuse to get out of it without exactly revealing the note.

 

Chanyeol and Junmyeon were taken by surprise before they could further talk about the badge; two boys appeared left and right from Jisung, appearing out of thin air just like Jisung had.

One boy had pastel purple hair, the other’s hair was white as snow.

 

“Stop it, Jisung!” The purple haired boy scout exclaimed. “Leave them alone. We can wait with our live-saving badge, right, Jeno?”

 

The white haired boy nodded knowingly. “Chenle is right. You can’t just go around and ask random strangers to join you, just because you want to have your badge before we do!”

 

The boys started talking at the same time, their words overlapping, turning their sentences incomprehensible and Junmyeon had difficulties to follow their conversation. He couldn’t imagine the boys actually understanding each other—but it seemed they did. They spoke so fast and out of order, Junmyeon was only able to pick up random words that seemed to be completely out of place in the conversation.

 

Jeno raised his hand like a conductor, as if he was about to silence an orchestra. Jisung and Chenle did stop talking, and Junmyeon and Chanyeol listened to Jeno’s following question.

 

“Have you ever been here before, Sir?”

 

Jisung and Chenle turned to face Junmyeon expectantly.

 

“No, we haven’t,” Junmyeon said. “You’re from Dream City, right? Jisung told us. Is this it?”

 

Jeno shook his head. “This is the border. Originally, Dream City was supposed to be built around the river, so that it flows right through the city. But the future citizens were against it, and so Dream City is to be found a few kilometers west from here!”

 

“What are these playground doing here in the middle of nowhere, and so many?”

 

Chenle chuckled. “This is one big playground.”

 

“If you want to,” Jeno began, putting his hand to his chin theatrically and pretending to think hard, “we could guide you through Dream City!”

 

“We could earn a badge through that, too!” Jisung joined in, showing much enthusiasm at the thought of receiving a badge.

 

Chenle and Jeno rolled their eyes at the same time. Junmyeon looked at Chanyeol from the corner of his eyes, but when he saw Chanyeol listening carefully, Junmyeon simply shifted his weight onto one foot and crossed his arms.

 

“Not everything is about receiving badges, Jisung!”

 

“It’s a great opportunity though!”

Jeno turned back to face the two adults. “Ignore him. He’s just acting innocent, he’s actually really annoying.  Are you curious about Dream City?”

 

Junmyeon considered it. They had a place to be, a place to find, someone to find. But they didn’t know how long the journey would take, so he thought that it was best to familiarize himself with the surroundings. _That could be an advantage later on_ , Junmyeon thought.

 

“If Chanyeol is alright with it, then I don’t see why not,” Junmyeon announced. His friend shot him a surprised look but Junmyeon didn’t change his opinion. After a moment, Chanyeol’s smile returned to his face, and he agreed to visit Dream City.

 

Sticking to his promise, Junmyeon too agreed to join.

 

 _Thinking about it, it shouldn’t be too bad._ He was already stuck in this place with Chanyeol, he might as well make the best out of it and learn about it. Perhaps he’d get to know about the history, and maybe the boys could explain just where they were, too.

 

“But we’re gonna have to leave you sooner or later,” Chenle informed them. “A good friend of ours is sick. He can’t leave his bed, and he’s dependent on us. He doesn’t quite take care of himself, and doesn’t want other people other than his parents and us around. But they’re busy, so they don’t have enough time to nurse him.”

 

“We’re not going to leave until you’re at some place where you can continue to learn about Dream, so that you’re not completely on your own. We could take them to the rest of our team, they should be free of duties later,” Jeno contemplated, and sought Chenle’s agreement.

 

“That’s a good idea. Sorry for the inconvenience, but our friends are great, I promise.” Chenle replied.

 

“That’s alright. Tell your friend to get well soon from us.” Chanyeol beamed, earning a high pitched giggle from Chenle. “Yeah, we will. You two are nice. Maybe he’ll want to meet you after hearing that you’re great tourists.”

 

“We haven’t started, though?” Chanyeol grinned. “But we’re going to be the best tourists we can.”

  


Jeno led the way. Junmyeon blocked out the cheerful chattering, and instead focused on Chanyeol’s energetic conversation with Jisung. He didn’t listen to what they were saying, because he tried to give himself a break. And after awhile, he wasn’t observing anything anymore. He just walked after them, without perceiving anything, his senses shut down, and no thoughts wanting to be heard in his head. His feet carried him to where they were headed without Junmyeon’s contribution.

 

Chenle walked into him when Junmyeon unconsciously slowed down. “I’m sorry,” Chenle rushed and walked around him, by his side. Junmyeon assured him that it was not a big deal, then thought how it was actually called for. He needed to pay attention, that was what the letter said. But he certainly was not doing that.

 

They’d been walking for quite a while, passing more and more playgrounds on their way to Dream City. Each playground they passed was bigger than the last, and Junmyeon reasoned that the closer to the city, the more children would be around to actually use them.

 

Junmyeon was proven incorrect.

 

They had been avoiding the playgrounds so far, but Jeno was now walking right towards the biggest one yet. It was built inside a gigantic sandbox; there were all kinds of abstract slides and there was also a tremendous black box. The black box looked eerie, why would a playground offer this to children?

 

Finally reaching the playground, Junmyeon stepped into the sand. It didn’t spread under Junmyeon’s weight, but remained in its place, like a solid platform.

 

Jeno stopped in front of the massive box, then walked around it. He grabbed a ladder at the side of the box and secured it at the sides.

 

A scented breeze licked at Junmyeon’s face. A sweet, familiar scent, that calmed him down and made him confident.

 

“Are you ready? We just need to get inside,” Jeno instructed, then started climbing. When he reached the top, Jeno gave them a thumbs up and gave a feline, but innocent smile. He swung his legs around the corner of the box, then slipped inside. Chenle gave Junmyeon a warm smile before following him, and Jisung did the same.

 

There was no sound when they landed, but Junmyeon didn’t bother to wonder. Who knew what other curiosities awaited them? None did. When Chanyeol started climbing the ladder, Junmyeon lay his hand on his friend’s shoulder, causing him to come to a halt.

 

Chanyeol’s fingers fidgeted along the thin iron steps. He ran his hand along the ladder, eyeing Junmyeon expectantly. “What is it?”

 

Junmyeon tapped the ebony box, feeling along the grooves in the wood. The boys had been confident and careless when they jumped into the box, but Junmyeon had his doubts.

 

“The river, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon squeezed Chanyeol’s shoulder. “We have no idea what it’s like where we end up if we do get inside. What about the river?”

 

“We promised them to visit Dream City, Jun,” Chanyeol said. “Let’s just do it. We can ask them to take us back anytime, I’m sure of that.”

 

He should have been surprised by Chanyeol’s change of tone, but he wasn’t. Chanyeol might have been a naive sweetheart, but he was certainly capable of being serious when he had too. It was new, but it was a nice change.

 

Junmyeon withdrew his hand from Chanyeol’s shoulder and the latter started climbing. Within a few seconds, Chanyeol had already disappeared inside of the box, following the boy scouts. Junmyeon looked around before gripping the steps and rapidly following.

 

When he reached the final step, Junmyeon hesitated.

 

There was a note tied to the step on Junmyeon’s eye level. He hooked his arm around the step for stability, freeing both of his hands, and removed the tie around the rolled piece of champagne coloured paper.

He recognized the handwriting from the first letter.

 

_Keep going_

_It’ll be alright_

 

And that was all it read. Junmyeon sighed as he tucked it into the pocket of his black pants, grabbed the edge of the box, closed his eyes and swung himself inside with skill. For a brief moment, fear of not knowing what lay ahead crashed into him, but it was washed away once he was inside.

 

He had expected a long fall similar to how he first got to this world. Instead, he came to realize that the box served more like a portal, and he was transported to their dream destination within seconds.

The black of his eyelids now resembled the inside of a kaleidoscope, colours playing around, merging and creating new colours, accompanied by dizziness and pulsing temples.

 

When Junmyeon felt solid ground beneath his feet, he found it difficult to open his eyes and stand straight. He watched the colours and listened to the beat of his pulsing temples, creating dizziness that almost made him lose his balance. Nausea was welling up inside of him, shaking his stomach and climbing up his throat, but Junmyeon held back.

 

“Open your eyes,” a new voice instructed him. The tone wasn’t demanding, it was more of a kind request.

 

Junmyeon took a deep breath before exhaling out of his nose, an attempt to calm himself down from the portal. He couldn’t have possibly foreseen it and prepare himself for it, it was difficult to simply ignore the nausea.

 

But Junmyeon obeyed, and looked into a new face. The boy looked around the boy scouts’ age, with light brown hair, nuance close to blond, but clad in completely different clothes. He wasn't wearing a uniform: the boy wore a classy suit and a plaid shirt underneath it.

 

Junmyeon's first instinct was to look where Chanyeol was. Deciding to simply look past the boy, Junmyeon was able to spot his friend among . . . the boy scouts? Except they weren't wearing their uniforms anymore, but had changed into classy clothing similar to the new face's. Chanyeol looked out of place wearing his uniform, bright blue hair and red eye.

 

“And who are you?” Junmyeon managed to say, bringing his hands to his thighs. The new boy smirked and extended his hand.

 

“I’m Mark. We’ll show you around.”

 

...

 

The buildings reached high into the sky, but there was no one in sight. The streets of Dream City were empty, but no building looked abandoned. It wasn’t a ghost town, that Junmyeon knew. It just made him wonder, where was everyone?

 

He took in as much of the surroundings as possible. He tried to pay attention to details, but the boys started talking and Junmyeon was unable to focus on his inspection.

 

“You see,” Chenle spoke, wiping his brow, “there’s a long and fairly complicated history to Dream City. There are also multiple versions of it. Most history is oral, therefore certain events are kinda changed up depending who you’re talking to.”

 

“There’s also someone who doesn’t believe Dream City’s history at all, and says that it’s just what people want to hear,” Jeno added. Chanyeol was smiling at them, intrigued. “Saying their name might get me into trouble. So I’d prefer it if you found out yourself.”

 

Junmyeon adapted to their pace. He was next to Jisung, pretending not to notice his curious side-eyeing.

 

“Is it uncommon for people to think differently in Dream City?” Chanyeol asked, a light jump to his step. Energetic and curious were suitable words to define Chanyeol, Junmyeon found. It was the only side to Chanyeol he had seen so far.

 

Chenle shook his head. “No, people argue all the time about a number of things. You know, normal stuff. But as for Dream City, people usually agree on the events in history, except sometimes they’re a little changed. It’s definitely uncommon for people to not believe in anything at all, though.”

 

“Does their view affect you? Do you think about it?” Chanyeol asked. Junmyeon’s gaze lay upon him, never breaking contact. He let his eyes wander up and down, as he listened to the conversation and took in the information he received.

 

Jisung replied this time. “Sometimes, I think about it. What if they’re right? What if out of who-knows-how-many people, this one person is right? It’s . . . well, unlikely, I guess. But sometimes I think about it and what effects it could have.”

 

“Effects? None.” Chenle said. “I’m pretty sure about that.”

 

Mark scoffed. “You can’t just say ‘None’, you never know, you know?”

 

Chenle took a few quicker steps ahead of them, then spun around on his heel. Now, he walked backwards, while shuffling over to Junmyeon at the same time. “Do you have any questions?”

 

Junmyeon rarely asked questions. He wasn’t used to it, and he had been told that he never should. Naturally, upon Chenle’s question, nothing came to mind. There were a bunch of things that could have striked a thought, but for now, Junmyeon’s mind was blank. He shook his head, and Chenle nodded slowly with a tilted head, as if he had a moment of realization.  “Anything you want to know about Dream City, you ask us, okay? Good,” then, “Nobody is quite sure of when Dream City was established. But ever since, it’s just been growing. The people of Dream City are busy—workaholics, one might say. But honestly, that’s just how they’re like. It doesn’t seem like people ever knew any different from it. It’s a little strange, though.”

 

“Especially ‘cause . . . like, we only moved here, so we didn’t grow up with this sort of mentality. It took some getting used to, always busy, even as kids,” Mark joined in. “Eventually, we just adapted to it. There’s little free time, but when we do have it, we spend it together with the boy scouts.”

 

Chanyeol’s step lost its jump. “I’m sorry we’re keeping you busy even though you’re supposed to be free, then.”

 

“No worries!” Chenle rushed, giving Mark a quick angered glance. “We like doing this. When we’re alone we just hang around and do nothing, anyway. This is much better.”

 

Junmyeon listened to Chenle explain where which important buildings were found.

 

“This right here,” Chenle pointed at a spiral building that could not possibly be a business place, or any place for that matter, “is the town hall. Our mayor isn’t necessarily the nicest one, but we hope for some change.”

 

“That over there,” Chenle spun around to point at a building on the other side of the road. “Is a clinic. For behaviour, I think? I don’t really know how it works, but apparently people with bad attitudes and stuff are sent there.”

 

“Isn’t that cruel?” Chanyeol asked. Chenle shrugged, “I have no idea. Never been there, you know.”

 

Chanyeol seemed to hesitate for a moment, then spoke his mind. “And the person that doesn’t believe in Dream City’s history? How about them?” Question after question, Chanyeol kept Chenle talking.

 

Chenle exchanged a look with Mark. Briefly, it looked like they were not going to respond, but then, “I don’t think they’ve been. But you have a point, I also think this is something they could get in for. If they had been, they would have told us.”

 

“Really? That’s unexpected,” Junmyeon attempted to join in on the conversation. Because the person that did not believe what Dream City is supposed to be, could also be the person to tell them what was going on, right? “I didn’t think you would be in contact with someone like that.”

 

Mark cleared his throat. “We’re actually closest to them. All adults here are kinda harsh, due to their busy schedules and hurry, but this person treats us quite well. We spend a lot of time with them.”

 

“We have to listen to lots of theories and plans, though,” Jisung said. “Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s interesting, and maybe even illegal. And like I said before, it really makes you question Dream City. Whether _that_ is bad or good, no idea.”

 

“They’re entitled to their opinion. It’s interesting to hear a different point of view. Since I’m used to the stories from school and everything, I do think it’s a little difficult to relate to and believe.” Mark kicked a stone into the distance, looked up and locked eyes with Junmyeon. “But we listen, anyway.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Chenle was distracted. He was squinting his eye at a certain building, then his face lit up. “This is an event building! Now, it’s rented for an art exhibition. That’s new!”

 

He crossed the street and the rest of the group hurried to follow him. Chenle read the writing on a piece of paper, taped to the glass door from inside.

 

Junmyeon and the others had just caught up when Chenle said, “Well. It’s closed now, but we can return next time. The exhibition is called ‘Soul Glitch’.”

 

“That’s pretty wild,” Jisung stated. “Soul Glitch. Sounds interesting.”

 

“I agree,” Chanyeol said and raised his eyebrows at Junmyeon, who did the same back at him.

 

Junmyeon put his hands against the door and leaned into it. He stared into the dark inside, faintly illuminated by the sun. There was not much to see; the hall looked empty, however Junmyeon reasoned it was because it’s the reception hall, and the exhibition must begin in the back of it.

 

He was still looking when Chenle gasped. “Ow, what happened?”

 

Junmyeon turned around, but Chenle had already grabbed his hands. From pressing them to the door, Chenle had spotted the scabbed injuries created by the claws hidden inside his skin. He brought Junmyeon’s hands close to his face, and inspected the injuries thoroughly.

 

“I . . . did that myself? It’s nothing bad.” Junmyeon was at a loss of words on how to explain.

 

“You did that yourself?! Seriously, what happened? It looks painful,” Jisung joined in and leaned over Chenle’s shoulder to see.

 

Junmyeon was uncertain of whether he should tell the boys he was a mutant or not. Dream City was strange enough, almost the same level, but perhaps they did not have mutants here. He could be considered an abomination by people who had been willing to help.

 

But he figured it was the most sensible thing to do. He needed to inform the boys, so that whatever their future relationship was, was based on truths. “Have you ever heard of mutants?”

 

Jisung backed away from behind Chenle. Chenle, like every so often, looked at Mark. Jeno’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah,” Chenle said. “There are a few in Dream City. Why?”

 

“I’m one of them. I have metal claws in my hands and feet, and when I draw them, they obviously slice the skin open. Usually the wound closes after I withdraw them, and there’s no scar left. But I don’t know why the same thing isn’t happening now,” Junmyeon explained, slowly for them to follow. He tried to sound confident, so that the information would not unsettle the boys. He risked being reported, and sent away or jailed. But there was something about the children that made him believe they would not do such a thing. On the contrary, he firmly believed that the boys would understand him.

 

Junmyeon was proven correct.

 

“That is,” Jisung started, “seriously so awesome. Can you draw them again? I’d like to see them!”

 

Chenle interfered, “Jisung, you can’t—”

 

“Why not?” Junmyeon drew his claws, and he felt a stinging pain when the claws emerged. He hissed, earning worried looks from Chenle and Mark. Blood dripped down his hand, and the metal claws shone in all their glory. The boys made sounds of amazement, eyeing the claws curiously. Junmyeon withdrew them again, and this time, the wounds did not even form scab. They remained open, bleeding uncontrollably, and it actually hurt. Instinctively, Junmyeon brought them to his chest and tried to cover one hand’s wounds with the other.

 

“This never happens,” Junmyeon murmured. “I don’t know why . . .”

 

“You shouldn’t lose much blood. We’ll patch you up,” Chenle said, worry written all over his face. He took off his scarf and ordered Mark to do the same, then they both took one hand each and tied it around Junmyeon’s hands.

 

“That’s not necessary, they’ll close soon.” Junmyeon tried to argue. His powers were . . . wearing off? Whatever it was, Junmyeon’s powers did not work properly anymore. Slight panic overcame him, because Junmyeon did not know what it was supposed to mean—whether it would remain like this, or return to its normal state, it was dubious. Chanyeol looked at him skeptically. “I doubt that, Jun. If they usually close, and now they don’t, something’s up. Let’s continue following the boys.”

 

“Come on, then,” Chenle stepped aside and gestured for them to walk past him. Unsure, Junmyeon did, but he still tried to figure out just what the loss of part of his powers meant.

 

“I think we should bring them to Jaemin, then.” Jeno spoke up. He had been silent for the past few minutes. “We could also leave for our friend’s after taking care of the wounds.”

 

“Good idea. We’re gonna take you to Jaemin and the others, and make sure you’ll get comfortable until we’re back to help you. In the meantime, our friends will. Please don’t hesitate to ask and approach them, too,” Chenle said. There was a certain strictness to Chenle’s voice, which didn’t surprise Junmyeon. He had proven himself to be more of a leader-type, even though he appeared younger than the rest of the boys.

 

Jisung strolled next to him, kicking little stones and sticks. “Actually, maybe don’t. They could be rewarded for hospitality, and uh, I think that badge should be left for us?”

 

Jeno and Mark groaned. “Not this again,” Jeno said. “That’s really mean. And you’re making yourself look bad in front of Mr. Chanyeol and Junmyeon.”

 

“Ah, no, really! I think that’s funny,” Chanyeol assured them. “Though both of you teams deserve badges for hospitality, being great tour guides, friendliness? Is there a badge for that?”

 

That earned him a couple of chuckles from the boys, and the corner of Junmyeon’s mouth curled slightly upward. A certain clumsiness made him likeable.

 

...

 

A few turns, more buildings to inspect, and a waterfall of Chenle’s words later, and they had reached their destination.

 

It was a white, high building with more windows than one could count. They stopped walking, and Junmyeon almost walked into Jisung and Mark. Mark bowed down to tie Jisung’s shoelaces, the other not moving a finger. Junmyeon stepped past them to focus on Chenle’s final explanation.

 

“. . . and here, you will meet our friends Jaemin, Renjun and Donghyuck. Jaemin is the group leader, so he will probably be able to answer more questions than we can. Like I said, feel free to ask questions and make yourself right at home.” Chenle pulled out a mobile phone from his pocket. “It’s already getting late. We should head to our friend’s place soon.”

 

Chenle tucked his phone back into his pocket and approached the building. He dedicated a brief moment to staring through the polished window glass, searching the inside for life, then turned to the different doorbells.

 

There was a number of them, all of which were not titled. Instead of different handwriting or printed fonts, bare white strips of paper were the only thing inside the bells. Although Chenle should have been sure of which doorbell to ring despite no names being there, Junmyeon found that he was taking a considerable amount of time.

 

Jeno joined Chenle and reached around him to press the penultimate button. A faint buzzing sound chimed out, and the two stepped away from the door. The group waited until a stronger, louder buzzing sound rang, and Jeno pressed the heavy door open.

 

Junmyeon and Chanyeol followed the boys silently, as they climbed the stairs to the floor where their friends were supposedly waiting. Catching a glance at Chanyeol, Junmyeon saw that his cheeks were dusted a pale pink from the stairs. There was a great amount of them, spiraling up, up, up through multiple floors, but nobody but Chanyeol seemed affected by it.

 

Jisung accidentally skipped a step in front of him, and his foot slid off the edge. He lost his equilibrium for a second, and he threatened to fall back into Junmyeon. A hair's breadth away from falling, Jisung caught himself, and Junmyeon quickly lowered the hands he had leveled with Jisung's waist, so that he would catch him. He had been too occupied with watching Jisung, so Junmyeon himself tripped, then, when his foot hit against the step instead of landing on it. Chanyeol grabbed his arm for support, and Junmyeon brushed him off politely.

 

They all stopped in front of a maroon door that had the boy scout’s names carved into it in several styles. Additionally to the names Junmyeon already knew, _Renjun_ and _Donghyuck_ were written on eye chest level.

Chenle unlocked the door with a heart-shaped key and motioned for the rest to come inside.

 

It was a cozy living room, with multiple small couches. A few blankets—skilled patch-work, it seemed—lay around, but one blanket pile looked too massive. Upon the sound of shoes on tiles, the lump moved, and a bare foot slipped out from under the covers.

 

“When will he ever stop taking random naps,” Mark sighed, and walked to the lump. He pulled the blanket off the young boy beneath it, who curled up into himself in return. He didn’t wake nor react differently, so Mark gently shook him awake, mumbling things to him.

 

In the meantime, Chenle offered the rest to take a seat and ordered Jeno to follow him. They announced they were going to get Jaemin and a first aid kit for Junmyeon. Before Junmyeon could even protest and explain that he was fine, Chenle already knew what was coming. “I doubt you would like to walk around with scarves tied around your hands, Sir.”

 

The boy woken by Mark groaned. With squinting eyes, the boy pulled Mark down onto the couch and pretended to choke him with the blanket. Mark laughed and wiggled out of his grasp and pushed the boy off the couch with his knee. He tumbled to the ground and only then it was that he noticed the unfamiliar company.

 

He rose to his feet quickly, and Mark smacked a hand to his forehead. “I didn’t see you! Sorry!”

 

“This is Donghyuck. You can just ignore him.” Jisung said and propped his head up on his hand. “Gets annoying real quick.”

 

“Who are you calling annoying you—” Donghyuck stopped himself. “Not falling for it this time.”

 

Jisung laughed, and Chanyeol grinned despite not understanding the insider. Junmyeon stared at the scarves around his hands, and tried to convince himself that the blood soaking through was just part of his imagination. _The wounds have closed, scab has formed and faded. My skin is fine._ But when he turned his hand to see the back of it, the cloth’s soft blue dark and wet, Junmyeon wasn’t so sure.

 

Chenle returned soon after, with a box in his hands and another boy in tow. "How am I supposed to remember all their names?" Chanyeol whispered to Junmyeon, but before Junmyeon could give any kind of reply, the new boy had already gone up to them and taken Junmyeon's hands in his palms, avoiding putting pressure to them.

 

Bowing, the boy said, "It's nice to meet you. My name is Na Jaemin. I'm the leader of the boy scouts."

 

He then turned his attention to Chanyeol and spoke a brief greeting to him as well. Chenle handed Chanyeol one of their blankets, and Jeno came back into the room with hot chocolate. "Don't have coffee here, or as our supervisor likes to call it: death. Hope you like choc."

 

Jaemin asked for permission to take off the scarves around Junmyeon's hands. The latter nodded, and watched Jaemin get the necessary items out of the kit to patch him up. Once the scarves were off, Junmyeon's gaping wounds were exposed to surprising cold. Jaemin then wiped the wounds clean and took care of them, while Chanyeol was having a conversation about chocolate with the others.

 

"White chocolate _sucks._ Like, who allowed that? That's illegal." Jisung took a sip of his hot chocolate. "And anyway, it's so sweet it gives you diabetes after one piece. So I'd rather stay away."

 

"This is not how I raised you," Mark said. "Get out of my house."

 

"Your house, you say? What if I can kick you out faster?" Jisung put his cup aside and got up to a boxing position. Donghyuck laughed. "Seriously, Mark. White chocolate is disgusting."

 

Mark's eyes widened. "Whose side are you on? I'm disowning you, too!"

 

Chenle finished his hot chocolate and put the cup aside. He scooted over the floor and helped Jaemin with Junmyeon's hands. Junmyeon continued listening to the conversation, and only looked down to his hands briefly when Chenle applied too much pressure with the band-aid. "I mean, if anyone is anyone's dad, that would probably be Jaemin. He knows what he's doing, unlike you Mark, who showed up to training three hours late after missing seventy calls from Jaemin," Chenle said.

 

"I mean, I have to take Mark's side. White chocolate is kinda good." Jeno added, shrugging.

 

Jisung grabbed a pillow. _"Disgusting,"_ he put extra stress on and stretched the last syllable, and closed his eyes for emphasis. He threatened to hit Jeno with the pillow, but Jeno acted like he was going to spill his hot chocolate over Jisung.

 

"I can't believe you all are betraying me like this, I thought we were friends." Mark whined. He locked his feet around Donghyuck's legs and started pulling and twisting. Donghyuck was trying hard not to spill anything on himself.

 

Chanyeol joined in. "If it makes you feel any better, I for instance really like white chocolate. It's really sweet, but wakes you up. White chocolate in the morning is the best thing. It's been a while since I had it, unfortunately."

 

Mark pointed at Chanyeol and shot Jisung a death glare. "He gets me. You're all weak, but he knows what's up. Thank you, Mr. Chanyeol."

 

Jaemin finished up with Junmyeon's hands and sat next to him. "Are you done discussing chocolate?"

 

"What's your favourite chocolate type?" Jisung asked him, hurling the pillow to Donghyuck's head. Donghyuck took it and gave Mark a soft beating.

 

Jaemin grinned. "Orange chocolate. Instant trip to heaven."

 

"Oh shit, yes," Jeno groaned. "Love that."

 

"I'm pretty sure Renjun keeps a stack of those in his room. He never shares." Jisung said.

 

Donghyuck huffed in response. "If he were to tell you where he keeps that, it'd be gone within two seconds. You're crazy to think that he would give you something."

 

“What about you, Sir?” Jaemin smiled at Junmyeon and winked, as if to say _just play along_. Truthfully, Junmyeon had eaten chocolate in the past. It had been a gift from his mother for his seventh—or eighth?—birthday. He was sure that had not been allowed, however it did not seem like his mother had cared. Junmyeon was way older now, and the flavour of the chocolate that he had eaten back then long forgotten.

 

“I don’t remember.” Junmyeon’s eyes flicked over Jaemin’s face, taking in every imperfection and wrinkle in the corner of his eyes. A saddle of faint freckles dotted his nose, and a little scar cut into his bottom lip.

 

Jisung gasped theatrically. “How come?!”

 

“I don’t think that Junmyeonnie is a big fan of chocolate. He usually avoids it, because he’s not the sweet-type. As you can probably tell.” Chanyeol interfered, and smiled innocently. He took Junmyeon the burden of explaining his situation once again, and for one second Junmyeon forgot to play along. He stared at Chanyeol, then huffed at Chanyeol’s joke. _Natural._

 

Jisung snapped his fingers. “Perfect! We just gotta tell Renjun. Yeah, he’d be determined to change your mind, Sir, and let you have something from his stack! Then we could get some, too.”

 

“What a brilliant plan, doomed to fail.” Donghyuck snatched the pillow from Mark and throws it to Jisung’s head.

 

Suddenly Chenle rose by Junmyeon's side and grabbed his jacket. "Sorry to interrupt the fun, but we're already late. We should go visit our friend now."

 

No hesitation, Jisung got his jacket and handed another one to Mark. Jeno only got up with Mark's help, dangling just above the ground while Mark was telling him to _get up himself_ , not let Mark do all the work.

 

"Are you not going with them?" Chanyeol asked Jaemin, and nodded at Donghyuck as well.

 

"No. We've been earlier today. And even so, you're our guests now. We have to take care of you, too, don't we?" He smiled widely and cozied himself into his wide, grey sweater. Everyone but Donghyuck and Jaemin wore formal clothing. Donghyuck had corgis printed on his white pajama pants.

 

“Have the stinkies shown you Dream City? Do you have questions?” Donghyuck made his way over to them on all fours, now that their friends were out of the door. Faint voices echoed in the staircase, until they faded. Junmyeon scratched the band-aid absentmindedly, while Chanyeol scooted closer to him. He was feeling a little dizzy, almost tired. How long had they already been here?

 

“Yes, they showed us a few buildings,” Chanyeol responded, face lighting up. “But I have a question about it’s history. Do you know when it was established?”

 

Donghyuck wrapped his arms around his knees. “I always sucked at history. I can’t even remember my own birthday. For history and dates, I think Renjun and Jaemin know best. But Renjun isn’t here.”

 

“But I am,” Jaemin straightened his back, “and I happen to know. Actually, there are no clear records that explain when Dream City was established. It appears Dream City has either come into existence five hundred years ago, or way, way more recently. This is quite the . . . _controversial topic_ within the community.”

 

“I doubt that there wouldn’t be any records on the establishment at all. Those should be Dream City’s base, someone should have and probably has kept them.” Junmyeon said, earning a thoughtful nod from Jaemin. He crossed his legs and looked at Junmyeon. “Makes sense. But it really doesn’t look like anybody has found those.”

 

Junmyeon lowered his gaze. “The city hall would be the first place I would search. It’s senseful for the mayor to have them.”

 

“Smart! Seriously, no one’s ever thought of that before.” Donghyuck said. “Ah, that sounded sarcastic. I meant it, though.”

 

Chanyeol scratched his head. “Isn’t it kind of obvious that the mayor would have them . . . ?”

 

“I’d think so, too.” Junmyeon agreed. “Looks like it wasn’t that obvious.”

 

“Wanna play a board game with me? Or Jenga?” Donghyuck rose to his feet and stomped to the commode to grab two games. One hand holding the Jenga box, the other a game of which the title was fading due to its age, Donghyuck wiggled his eyebrows curiously.

 

Chanyeol pointed at the unknown game. "Let's try that one!"

 

Donghyuck nodded once and carelessly tossed the Jenga box back onto the commode. Jaemin winced at the sound of wooden blocks hitting the ground and shook his head, sighing. “I guess the discussion got boring.”

 

He got up and held out his hand for Junmyeon to take. Remembering that the band-aids would make grabbing any sort of thing difficult—or painful—to Junmyeon, he withdrew it and offered support when Junmyeon stood, instead. His soft palm against Junmyeon's side made him stiffen, and Jaemin seemed to notice. He lowered his hand again and asked, "Would you like to play with them, or do you want to accompany me to the study room?"

 

Junmyeon chose the latter option. He left Chanyeol sitting on the floor around a coffee table, and halted to receive Chanyeol's permission. "You're not going to join us, Jun?"

 

"I'm going with Jaemin." He would have asked for Chanyeol's acceptance, but Junmyeon simply didn't. He dodged Chanyeol's disappointed look and walked out of the room with Jaemin, and Chanyeol was not as opposed to that as he had sounded. He returned to counting the cards Donghyuck had given him, and listened to him explain the rules.

 

Jaemin led him into a room with a large table, and a few filled shelves. Junmyeon was invited to check the books and pick out whatever sounded interesting to him, but he ended up strolling the rows instead and focusing on Jaemin.

 

The boy did not mind, or notice. His concentrated gaze upon the book covers, searching the levels for a specific book, it appeared. Junmyeon's hand settled on one level, on a book titled _Once There Was A . . ._ , but he did not pay attention to it. Briefly flicking through other books, Junmyeon's eyes were most interested in Jaemin's movements through the gap between books and the next shelf. The boy still didn't mind.

 

Eventually, Junmyeon grew tired of it. Jaemin had still not found what he was looking for, and he also did not do anything alarming. "Where's your supervisor?" Junmyeon finally asked, a question that had been the only one burning under his nails for a little while now. Jaemin must have taken it as a casual attempt to make conversation.

 

"She doesn't live with us here. We spend most of the days with her, and she's also friends with my mom. We usually live at home with our parents, too, but we were given this small apartment for practice and whatever. We have rooms here, so whenever we feel like sleeping over, we just do. Looks like we will be today, too." Jaemin explained, briefly looking up from the book he was holding. He was reading the summary on the back of the book, but decided it wasn't what he was looking for and put it back.

 

Junmyeon nodded and returned his attention to the bookshelves. He felt Jaemin's look on his face, and for an odd reason, Junmyeon felt slightly uncomfortable.

 

Gusts of wind rushed into the room through the open window, the sky dipped into a deeper blue now. He could just ask Jaemin for the time. Jaemin could tell him more things—

 

A loud sound interrupted Junmyeon's thoughts. Jaemin, too, closed the book in surprise. Hissing and cursing resonated from outside, and Junmyeon stepped away from the shelves to the window to see. The boy joined him.

 

They leaned out the window, and found somebody wildly searching for something in a container. The person stepped away for a moment and kicked the container, the metallic sound piercing the silence. They then bowed over the edge to continue their search.

 

"Renjun! Watcha doing?" Jaemin shouted, and Renjun waved him off, not looking up at him. Junmyeon eyed the boy from the side, but Jaemin was smiling widely, quiet laughing escaping his lips.

 

"I ran into the container," Renjun shouted, just barely audible from up here. "My glasses fell inside."

 

"Let's go," Jaemin laughed and tugged at Junmyeon's sleeve. Junmyeon shot one last glance at Renjun who was frantically fishing for his glasses, while Jaemin led him out of the room to the door.

 

Junmyeon removed Jaemin's grip on his sleeve, but he didn't care. Junmyeon was fine with following him, but he didn't appreciate the touching. They were soon out of the door, not notifying Donghyuck and Chanyeol, but they would be back soon anyway.

 

Jaemin practically jumped down the stairs, smile never leaving his face as they went to meet and help his friend. Junmyeon was a little behind, but he caught up to the boy once they had arrived at the bottom of the staircase. He pushed the heavy door open, and Jaemin slipped under his arm and onto the street, eager to meet Renjun.

 

They jogged around the house to see the boy of Jaemin's age almost inside the container, wiggling his legs and cursing, the words echoing from the metal.

 

"You're a mess." Junmyeon followed Jaemin to Renjun's side, and unlike Jaemin, he took his distance. The boys were almost pressed together, and Junmyeon watched from two steps away.

 

They didn't get anywhere. The boys were both frantically searching now, but they didn't find Renjun's glasses. A bag was placed between Renjun's legs, and Renjun held it there by squeezing slightly. There was nobody around to just take it, though. Junmyeon had yet to see anybody else in Dream City, there were only the kids, and apart from that, this area was empty.

 

Junmyeon joined them. He stepped to them, and climbed on top of a box that was around the corner. While the boys looked in the front, there were pieces of cardboard that separated them from another load. A pair of glasses twinkled right in the corner, half a meter from Junmyeon. Junmyeon reached over and grabbed the glasses, then held them up for Renjun to see.

 

"Yeah! Those are mine," Renjun took them and thanked Junmyeon. The latter jumped from the box and watched Renjun and Jaemin examine the glasses.

 

"Well, those are filthy now. You shouldn't wear them." Jaemin yawned, and buried his face in the crook of his arm.

 

"The container is filled with cardboard. I doubt that the glasses are filthy because of cardboard," Junmyeon remarked. "Just put them on."

 

"You heard the man," Renjun did as Junmyeon was told, "I'm Renjun, Sir."

 

"I've heard." Junmyeon looked up to the building, and found the open window where they had stood a few minutes before.

 

Renjun looked at Jaemin nervously, but his friend shrugged. He pointed at Renjun's bag. "Where'd you come from?"

 

"You know, my mom's place. Having divorced parents sucks. Tomorrow I have to travel all the way back to my dad, not that I don't want to see him, but it's just troublesome to travel back and forth all the time." Renjun sighed, and grabbed his bag. He pulled out a water bottle from the side, and before he opened it, he offered it to Junmyeon and Jaemin, who both declined.

 

After taking a mouthful, Renjun continued. "And my brothers are fighting all the time, too. Sucks being the youngest, at seventeen. But anywho," Renjun smiled suddenly. "That's family, right?"

 

Jaemin agreed dryly, as if they had shared moments like these often enough. Renjun's gaze lingered on Junmyeon for approval, but Junmyeon couldn't give a reply. He nodded and hoped that Renjun would look away, but it was obvious that Renjun noticed his stiffness.

 

"Are the others there?" Renjun asked, and put his bottle back into his backpack.

 

"Only Hyuck and Junmyeon's friend, Chanyeol. I don't know if the others will come back tonight." Jaemin responded, slowly starting to walk backwards, and the others followed him.

 

"I have some cool things with me. Looks like they're not gonna see it. I'll show you."

 

...

 

Junmyeon found himself at the game table with Donghyuck, Chanyeol and Jisung. Renjun had asked if it was alright for him to talk to Jaemin first, repeating multiple times that he did not want to sound rude in any way. Jaemin then had suggested for him to join the two playing, and shortly after Jisung had returned to the apartment.

 

He was the only one staying overnight as the other three had night activities. It didn’t take long for Junmyeon to actually sit down and play with the others, after Jisung had been persistent for Junmyeon to join.

 

“You know what,” Donghyuck said after he finished up his round with Chanyeol (and Junmyeon and Jisung waited to join), “let’s play something else.”

 

He searched for a game in the bottom drawer, and finally found a box that looked similar to the one they had been playing with.

 

“Prison? Jaemin says we’re not allowed to play this,”—Jisung earned a surprised sound from Donghyuck—“but I guess that means that we totally should play.”

 

“Why are you not allowed to play?” Chanyeol asked and folded his hands in his lap.

 

Donghyuck shook the contents of the box onto the table. “He says it’s dumb and a waste of time, and that our supervisor thinks it’s too violent so we shouldn’t play. We’re all literally seventeen. And this game is not that violent, anyway.”

 

“It’s a great game!” Jisung reached for two plans and gave Junmyeon one. Junmyeon unfolded it and straightened it on the table, following Jisung’s example. The plans depicted maps for two different cities. Donghyuck handed Junmyeon and Chanyeol one figurine respectively, then he said, “We’re four people, fits perfectly. This is gonna be fun.”

 

Jisung activated a little device that he had put next to his figurine. “Will you explain the rules, then?”

 

“Sure!” Donghyuck took Junmyeon’s figurine and placed it on the first map, on a building entitled ‘PRISON’. Donghyuck’s figurine was placed on ‘HOME’ on the second map  and Jisung’s was placed on ‘CHAMBER’, a room in the prison Junmyeon was in. “I basically just divided the roles, but it doesn’t really matter that much. So here are the rules.”

 

He took a piece of paper with the instructions, then put it aside. “I’ll tell you about the characters first. So you two,” he referred to Junmyeon and Chanyeol, “are vengeful spirits that died imprisoned, and you’re not on good terms with each other. You were framed for the murders I committed, but you couldn’t contact me anymore. When you died, you received access to all information in the prison, and found out about my location after the police found me and realized that you were innocent. I am supposed to be arrested, but you two decide to find and kill me first.

 

“Jisung is a prison guard that finds out about your plans, and then it becomes a race. The game is set for two hours. In these two hours, everyone of us has a goal; Junmyeon and Chanyeol are enemies and try to be faster than each other and kill me. Jisung tries to prevent them of doing that and arrest me. And it’s my goal to survive and not be arrested.

 

“The decisions are free to make. This device here,” Donghyuck took the item Jisung had activated, “calculates whether your decisions are legitimate or not. For example, let’s say we’re starting and you, Junmyeon, want to leave the prison. You type it in here, and the device will obviously say that it is legitimate. You will gain a small number of points because it’s not that spectacular of a decision, but the device keeps track of our progress this way and with the earned points you can buy extras.

 

“Make decisions as wild as possible. The riskier, the more points you get. After you made a decision, the device generates another circumstance, problem, whatever, so that the game stays alive. If Jisung arrests me, the game is over and he wins. If one of you kills me, the game is over, too, and whoever did it wins. If the two hours run out and nobody catches me, I’m the winner. Clear?” Donghyuck finished and put the device on RESTART.

 

Chanyeol teetered, and fidgeted with the figurine. “Learn by play. The device is interesting. Can I go first?”

 

Jisung and Donghyuck encouraged him to. He took the device and typed in his first choice, which was to leave the prison. From then, the path to Donghyuck was supposed to be full of hurdles, but Junmyeon couldn’t imagine how. “Take a cab.” Chanyeol received fifty points for the decision to take a cab, and the device said that the cab driver was drunk.

 

“It’s your turn, Junmyeon.”

 

Junmyeon took the machine and thought for a second. He tried to take a different approach. “Get on the roof.” Junmyeon typed this decision in and received a hundred points, the device passed. The roof was close to where Jisung’s figurine waited.

 

“Follow the cab.” Jisung put his figurine behind Chanyeol’s, and Donghyuck reached for the device.

 

“Hm . . . Chanyeol’s tires explode.” Donghyuck received five hundred points.

 

Chanyeol winced. “That’s not fair! Can you do that?!”

 

"Hell yeah! I forgot to mention that since I can’t do much in my apartment, I am allowed to influence your circumstances." Donghyuck laughed, and showed Chanyeol and Junmyeon the screen which read: ' **SPIRIT 3 INJURED IN CRASHED CAR.** '

 

"I almost cussed but I held it back," Chanyeol snorted and let Donghyuck move his figurine from mid-road to the sidewalk. "I'm coming to get you, Donghyuck."

 

It was Chanyeol's turn again, and he covered the screen with his hands when Donghyuck leaned over to see. He grinned as he typed, and Donghyuck was swaying left and right to see.

 

A loud sound resonated from the room Renjun and Jaemin were in, and both Junmyeon and Jisung were about to go check on them until it was followed by laughter. "Idiots scared me there. I thought they died." Jisung groaned and sat back down. He looked at Junmyeon and rose his eyebrows. "Hey, you didn't see that I was gonna go check. I don't like them."

 

Junmyeon nodded and couldn't help a smile. Jisung loved them, he would deny it if he stated that but it was obvious. "Alright. Chanyeol, are you done?"

 

"I'm trying, Jun, but Donghyuck is distracting me." Chanyeol kept his finger on a certain key for multiple seconds, and Jisung complained that backspacing wasn't allowed.

 

"Okay, okay. Wait for Prison Guard." Chanyeol finalized his decision, and looked both satisfied and annoyed with it. His expression quickly changed when Junmyeon took the device from him, and Chanyeol smiled at him widely.

 

“Why would you wait for me?” Jisung groaned and propped his head up on his hand. “That’s creepy.”

 

“It’s not creepy. It’s called having a plan, and I’m scared of it,” Donghyuck shivered exaggeratedly, then narrowed his eyes at Chanyeol mysteriously in unvoiced competition.

 

In the meantime, Junmyeon thought about his next move. He glanced at the timer on the table, and ten minutes had already passed.

 

He considered what options he could have, but it seemed limitless. Another sound came from the room, and Jisung got up to check this time. He muttered things like 'You didn't see this' under his breath, and walked across the room to check on Renjun and Jaemin. Junmyeon turned to watch, as well.

 

"Nevermind them," Donghyuck said to Junmyeon. "Just make your move."

 

Junmyeon typed his next choice into the device and waited for it to calculate his points. He received five hundred points for jumping over several roofs in Donghyuck's direction. The generated point read: **VICTIM IS BEING OBSERVED. WAIT FOR SPIRIT 2**.

 

"Wait for you?! I was gonna get the hell out of there right now!" Donghyuck complained and slammed his fist on the table. It was amusing how passionate he was about this game. Chanyeol laughed at the result and drummed his fingers on the table.

 

"It wasn't my intention to get to you right away." Junmyeon said, moving the figurine a few houses past Chanyeol's.

 

Jisung returned as quickly as he had left. "They went mad. They're throwing books around, trashing them and laughing or whatever."

 

"Doesn't sound like Jaemin. You would expect him to have some brain cells left." Donghyuck took the device from Junmyeon. His next decision was to prepare something to eat for Junmyeon and him. He laughed at that. "The amount of points I received for this is truly pathetic. Everybody has to appreciate some good cordon bleu."

 

"Talking about food," Jisung said, heading for the kitchen. "I met Jaemin's mom on the way back here. She asked me to come with her, and she gave me the food she made after Mark told her of your arrival. I think it's enough for us all, and also, she welcomes Junmyeon and Chanyeol to Dream City."

 

He returned with a basket in his hands, and placed it next to the table. "I don't think it's cordon bleu, but what I know for certain is that it's good. The best. We can eat when we're done."

 

"I'm looking forward to it," Donghyuck said, and wrapped his arms around his legs.

 

They continued playing, and the timer was showing them that only half an hour was left. Chanyeol and Jisung had remained glued together, every move related to the other in some way. Junmyeon had stayed on the roofs, and he had already attempted to dodge air attacks. Apparently he lost two thousand points and an arm. Donghyuck was becoming increasingly antsy, worrying that Junmyeon's spirit would kill his character in no time once he had arrived. He continued complaining about how the device was not letting him leave the apartment didn't make any sense at all, and he was right. At this point in the game, Junmyeon was two houses away and Jisung and Chanyeol were competing on the ground floor of the apartment complex.

 

It was Chanyeol's turn. He considered his decision for a long time, then, as he typed, Chanyeol said, "Kill Prison Guard."

 

 _"What?"_ Jisung's mouth fell open. "The device is sure as hell not going to let you do that!"

 

Quite the contrary was the case, because Chanyeol received four thousand points and the screen read: **PRISON GUARD DECEASED. CONTINUE GAME WITH THREE CHARACTERS.**

 

Jisung made a variety of protesting sounds until he came to accept his failure. Donghyuck, too, was baffled. Junmyeon took Jisung's figurine and removed it from the plans. "That's nuts," Donghyuck uttered, making Chanyeol's face light up triumphantly. Now it was Junmyeon against Chanyeol, racing to get Donghyuck's character.

 

Jaemin came out of the room, carrying two ripped books and placed them on the ground next to the apartment door. One was thick and old, the other relatively thin in comparison. "What are you playing?"

 

"Nothing," Donghyuck tried to cover the table with his body, and quickly backspaced out of the decision to set up traps for Junmyeon and Chanyeol. (A decision he had wanted to make even though it was Junmyeon's turn.)

 

"Are you playing Prison again? How many times do I have to tell you that you can literally play anything, just not this game?" Jaemin walked over and snatched the device out of Donghyuck's hands. He turned to Junmyeon and Chanyeol. "I'm sorry. I'm usually very lenient with a number of things, but I seriously dislike this game."

 

"Just because you hate it doesn't mean we shouldn't play it," Donghyuck protested. Chanyeol had to agree with him.

 

Jaemin sighed. "That is true. But the supervisor, too, said that we're not allowed to play this game, and you know it. So there's that." Junmyeon watched Donghyuck get visibly upset, but Jaemin remained persistent. _If the supervisor is really against it, then they should just try and forget the game_ , Junmyeon thought, and leaned back on his hands. Jaemin had a point, he was just following orders, and that was good.

 

"For your information, I'm pretty sure the supervisor would be against shredding books, too." Jisung countered and tried to get the device back, but Jaemin held it out of reach. "That was for a reason. Come, put it away. You can do something else."

 

“It’s just a game, Jaemin.” Chanyeol said, and held out his hand for Jaemin to give him the device. Jaemin stared at him for a moment, and his grip around the device tightened.

 

"What's this?" Jaemin nudged the basket next to the table with his feet.

 

“ _Jaemin_ ,” Donghyuck and Jisung said in unison, nodding at Chanyeol. His hand was still extended.

 

Jaemin groaned. “Honestly, guys, really? Look, I’m the leader. Miss—the supervisor said we’re not allowed to play this game. Why are you fighting me, I’m just doing what I was told. If you don’t even listen to, to me anymore, what is going to be the future of the group?” He stumbled over his words, stammering and hacking sentences off while he spoke as the thoughts came. Jisung snorted. “Seriously? Stop exaggerating. The supervisor doesn’t have to know, anyway. If you’re gonna snitch then we’ll all just appoint Chenle or Mark as new leader, jerk.”

 

“If Jaemin is against it, then that’s probably best. We can do something else.” Junmyeon took sides with Jaemin. The boy was relieved to find at least one person agreeing with him, and relaxed. Seeing Jaemin this tense was strange, giving that previously he had been calmness itself.

 

“Can you at least give reasoning as to why you’re not allowed? Maybe this can satisfy everyone then.” Chanyeol attempted, withdrawing his hand. He folded his hands in his lap again and watched Jaemin patiently as he battled himself.

 

Jaemin heaved out a frustrated sigh and brought his hand to his face. "Please."

 

"No, Chanyeol is right! If you know _why_ , then tell us!" Donghyuck said.

 

"Hey. It's alright. There are rules, and it's Jaemin's responsibility to make you follow them." Junmyeon kneeled and reached out for his figurine to put it back into the box. Chanyeol grabbed his wrist as his hand hovered over the city plan, and said, "Junmyeon. You have to look at it differently. The game is not causing any harm and playing it being forbidden is unreasonable. You have to have a little fun."

 

Junmyeon locked eyes with him, and Chanyeol smiled. "It's not a bad thing. If nobody tells the supervisor . . ."

 

"Chanyeol, you're a guest here. You're not supposed to be bad influence on teens." Junmyeon argued, receiving Jaemin's approval.

 

"Guys! Do you know what we're arguing about? A _game_. It's literally only a game. I don't understand what the big deal is," Donghyuck whined and grabbed the device. "Now leave, Jaemin."

 

Renjun's head appeared in the door. "What are you being so loud for?"

 

"They're playing Prison and they don't want to stop now. I told them to, multiple times." Jaemin informed him, face in bitter shadows.

 

"Why are you so against that game? Let them play and come back here. I need some help with this analysis." Renjun said, and Jaemin groaned. He buried his face in his hands one more before saying, "Okay fine. I tried. If you get into trouble, I told you."

 

Then he left, joining Renjun back in the room. Had he done it any harder, Jaemin would have basically slammed the door shut.

 

The four continued playing the game, though enthusiasm lacked now, even from Donghyuck. He had been just as excited to continue as he had been to start the game, but shortly before Junmyeon was about to break into his apartment, Donghyuck noticed the little enthusiasm from his playmates that was left.

 

"Man. Now the game is ruined, anyway." Jisung sighed into his palm.

 

"Should have stopped when Jaemin told you to." Junmyeon responded, taking the figurines now and taking care of the game.

 

Donghyuck groaned. "It just got intense. Would have been fun now. Of course Jaemin had to ruin it."

 

"Jaemin is not at fault. He was just following orders." Junmyeon put everything into the box, with Chanyeol's help.

 

"Following orders? Makes him sound like he's in the military. We're just boy scouts." Jisung rose to his feet and smoothened the crinkles in his pants. His sweater was extremely oversized, almost swallowing Jisung whole. Jisung was relatively thin to begin with, but the sweater was loose against his slim frame and made him look even thinner.

 

"Shall we eat, then?" Chanyeol suggested, and reached for the basket.

 

"Jaemin's mom made this for you." Jisung said as Chanyeol looked at the contents of the basket.

 

"I'm honoured! It smells so good~" Chanyeol stared at the food and Junmyeon could almost sense that his mouth was watering. He huffed, and made way for Donghyuck and Jisung who wanted to push the little table back to the wall, where it had stood before they played.

 

...

 

The boys had given each of them a room to stay in, and Junmyeon was taken back by how casual the boys were in general. They had adopted random strangers, trusting them without any adult by their side. Junmyeon and Chanyeol's intentions were not ill, but how would the boys be able to tell at first glance? He was unfamiliar with this kind of blind trust, but Chanyeol had shown it as well. He had picked up a lot on their behaviour, and he wanted to find out more.

 

As he lay in bed that night, he considered how much more time he and Chanyeol would have in Dream City, before moving on, and if it was best to leave soon. Unknown provinces, forests, villages, whatever may lay ahead, it was unsettling to think about the impossibility of foreseeing what waited.

 

The bed was comfortable, but he did not sleep that night. After a day of meeting all boy scouts, Chanyeol, and familiarizing himself with the surroundings, Junmyeon found the time to properly think just now. Did he have expectations? Did he have a goal? He had a goal, although it was ambiguous. He and Chanyeol needed to find somebody who was anticipating them, but wouldn't it be easier to stay in Dream City until something happened on its own? It sounded most convenient, but he was not sure whether or not that would pose as the best solution.

 

Junmyeon reached into his pocket to find the first letter. _Or stay here, I don’t mind_. The final line made Junmyeon think; did it apply still? Was it still possible to just _stay_?

 

 _You have to have some fun sometimes_ , Chanyeol had told him. The boys were amusing, their relationships with each other diverse and natural. Chanyeol blended perfectly into this scenery. Only Junmyeon stood out, with his periods of silence when conversations bloomed on topics he had little to no knowledge of. Or playing games that Chanyeol remembered but he had only seen on school yards from afar. When Jeno returned the night before, on the phone with his mother asking her not to worry, Jaemin and Donghyuck were less tense around each other. Junmyeon was aware of the fact that Donghyuck was just holding a minor grudge against their leader, but he was still taken aback when Jisung told him that arguments like these happened at least twice a week.

 

After a number of activities they had stayed up late into the night, as if tomorrow was long forgotten. It was until Renjun fell asleep in his seat that Jaemin said, "He had a long day. Help me get him to his room, please."

 

And from then, everyone had slowly retreated into the rooms, until Junmyeon and Jaemin were the only ones left awake, with Chanyeol resting in a deep slumber next to Junmyeon. His head was leaned against Junmyeon's knees, and Junmyeon winced everytime Chanyeol moved the tiniest bit. His sleep was uneasy, but once Chanyeol had found a position he was comfortable in, he moved a lot less.

 

Junmyeon thought about his and Jaemin's conversation then. Jaemin was mature and responsible—his anger at the playing table completely washed away. Jaemin was casual, and Junmyeon had come to find out that it was until he was truly upset. He had asked Jaemin why the game upset him, but Jaemin didn't want to give a reply. He would have insisted under different circumstances, but the look on Jaemin's sleepy face told him not to.

 

Jaemin started speaking about how the mayor should have the information on the city's establishment. "It's kind of ridiculous," Jaemin had yawned, his open mouth reforming into a smile. "That nobody thought of that before. Now I've been thinking about it all day."

 

Junmyeon had returned the smile, unsure. It was the most obvious thing on earth. The conversation had died down slowly, giving them space to think. Junmyeon's look rested on Chanyeol's face, soft in the light of the standing lamp. Junmyeon had been able to see all his features so clearly then.

 

"How are your hands, Sir?" Jaemin shuffled in his seat and hugged the pillow he was holding. Sir, the word had found its way back into Jaemin's mouth. They had dropped the word quite early, and Junmyeon did not mind nor did he care. It wasn't something he expected to be called. Jaemin picking it up again, however, made it sound completely different.

 

He had looked down on his hands, but his reply, what had that been?

 

Junmyeon kept staring at the ceiling. There was no need to recall the conversation from an hour before. Everyone was fast asleep in their rooms. Donghyuck even shared one with Jaemin so Chanyeol could stay in his. He should try and sleep, too.

 

No, there was a reason why he was still up. Why he couldn't rest even though tiredness was making his eyelids heavy and every blink threatened to draw him into slumber. Jaemin had said something that kept him up.

 

"They don't hurt anymore. That's something." Junmyeon had replied to Jaemin's question. The boy nodded.

 

"Who knows how it looks like under the bandages, huh?" Jaemin had said, fighting off sleep while yawning into his pillow. "Could look like from a battlefield."

 

"A battlefield? I doubt that," Junmyeon replied, and Chanyeol rolled around, off his knees. Junmyeon thought he had woken him up, but when the even rising and falling of Chanyeol's chest continued without any signs of awakening, Junmyeon continued. Voice lower now, he had spoken, "You couldn't ever imagine being on one."

 

"That might be very true." Jaemin had said, his eyes resting upon Chanyeol's curled up figure. "But I think that I can get close."

 

"How so?"

 

"Lately, I've been thinking a lot. About all kinds of things. So I believe . . . projecting myself into a battlefield wouldn't be that hard. What about you?" Jaemin's response had been.

 

"You mean, you trained your thoughts? It's not the same as being there. There is a significant difference." Junmyeon explained, dodging Jaemin's question for now. Upon the boy's nodding of his head, Junmyeon decided to continue. "I've been on one. Only once."

 

"A real battlefield?" Jaemin's sleep-deprived eyes had grown wide, before falling shut again. Junmyeon was witnessing the boy falling asleep in his seat, like Renjun had. "Tell me, Sir . . ."

 

His pause had been long and almost straining, Junmyeon waiting for words to leave his sleepy face. Jaemin's eyes had been completely shut by then. "Just how . . . "

 

". . . would you get yourself in such a situation?" The last part of the sentence was soft, distorted by one final yawn. He hadn't asked what he was doing there, or how the experience had went. He asked how Junmyeon got there, not to the battlefield, but into the circumstances that forced him to partake.

 

After that, Jaemin had rested his head on the arm of the chair, bringing his knees up to hug them. He looked peaceful, so did Chanyeol, and for a moment reality felt altered as the two slept ahead and Junmyeon was the only one awake in this flat.

 

Before going to bed, where he was pondering their words now, he had softly shaken Chanyeol awake and guided him to the room Donghyuck had shown them to be his. More hesitantly, he had done the same with Jaemin, who needed less support.

 

And here he was now. _Yes, Junmyeon. How did you get yourself into such a situation?_ The question echoed in Junmyeon's brain, and for the first time, Junmyeon thought about what could have been different. Back then. Back there.

 

It was true, a battlefield with modern twist had posed as one of the sceneries where he'd had to work. It had been hundreds against him, and for some reason, he had made it out alive. Alive, in his sense; his healing factor would have made sure to revive him even if he 'died'. Alive, regarding Junmyeon, always meant: breathing and not in captivity.

 

Junmyeon had not been captured that day. But what did that mean? As he lay in bed, the cool bedding rubbing against his skin, Junmyeon thought about what could have been Jaemin's reply if he were to ever tell him. _Jaemin probably won't even remember our conversation tomorrow._ He had been practically asleep. Junmyeon still wanted to know what Jaemin's answer could have been.

 

If he told Jaemin, there was one thing that he could imagine the boy saying very clearly: not in captivity from outer forces, back into captivity in the place that was 'home'. Would Jaemin think that? Was that his _own_ thought? Junmyeon had always been a prisoner.

 

And now he was here. With Chanyeol. In a house filled with boys who prioritized fun, and still gave off a soothing and mature aura. Junmyeon liked Dream City. He liked Chanyeol. And he also liked it here.

  


The next morning, Junmyeon woke up to an empty apartment. Breakfast had been left for him at the table, and he grabbed something light before looking for the rest. He heard voices and chattering from outside, and Junmyeon headed for the window.

 

Chanyeol was playing a game with Jisung and Donghyuck outside. Jaemin, Renjun, Mark and Chenle stood together, talking instead of joining them. Junmyeon recognized the game; it was hopscotch, and Chanyeol took an awfully long time to throw his stone. There was a mission once, for which Junmyeon enrolled in a private middle school for art. He had been among the older students, but the youngest had always played this game. Junmyeon didn't know the exact rules, but he was sure Chanyeol was doing it wrong.

 

A few minutes and a bathroom visit passed, and Junmyeon was heading down the staircase to join them. _Why didn't they wake me?_ Junmyeon asked himself as he took a few steps at a time. He felt a little strange for joining them so late, but the boys didn't mind at all.

 

"Good morning!" The boys greeted him, and Jaemin's neutral face lit up a little bit. Junmyeon had become accustomed to the arch of his eyebrows and the way his eyes crinkled in no time. Jaemin was easy to get used to, and internally,  Junmyeon asked himself once again if Jaemin remembered their conversation.

 

Shortly after, Chanyeol and his hopscotch mates had joined them as well. Chanyeol looked bright, his blue hair tousled and his stance straight and tall.

 

"Let's go, I'd say," Mark spoke up and Jeno had already gripped Jisung and put him in a headlock, laughing as they stumbled away, bags on their backs.

 

“Would you like to join us?” Chenle asked, clutching his bag.

 

“What are you up to?” Chanyeol stretched and rested his arms on Junmyeon’s shoulder.

 

“We’re gonna go swimming in the river.” Chenle replied, and eyed Jisung. “Luckily he forgot about the life saving badge. So if you’re joining us, don’t worry, you don’t have to play damsel in distress.”

 

Junmyeon looked at Jeno and Jisung, wearing swim shorts and towels over their shoulders, apparently already making their way to the river. He glanced up at Chanyeol, and considered Chenle’s proposition.

 

No, they could not join. The author of the note had told them not to, that it would ruin everything. The kids had been great to them, and he had seen that Chanyeol was clearly enjoying himself here. That was uplifting, but it seemed that now was the best chance for Junmyeon and Chanyeol to go. His thought from last night returned. Staying was easy.

 

They couldn’t stay here with the kids forever, although it did seem . . . fun. It could have been. He was assured of that, but what they sought was somewhere at the end of the river, and swimming inside of it would be against the rules the writer had set up.

 

But . . . it was great here. The writer’s note was just ink on paper, no face or name behind it. The boy scouts, however, he knew them personally. Their faces, names, and personalities. If Junmyeon and Chanyeol stayed, what of a difference would it make?

 

Nonsense. It was time to go.

 

“We can’t stay much longer,” Junmyeon admitted, voicing his decision. “Thank you for taking care of us for a day. We don’t want to inconvenience you any longer.”

 

Chanyeol opened his mouth, ready to protest, but let it be. As good of an option as staying was, Junmyeon thought it was best to leave now before they fell into circumstances that didn't allow them to. The boys had been great to them, no doubt, and especially after talking to Jaemin, Junmyeon felt a little different. A small change.

 

"Please, no inconvenience at all. If you want to stay, Dream City is more than happy to house you. You will love it here, and really, there's so much for you to see!" Donghyuck responded. The enthusiasm that had faded out of his eyes after the argument yesterday returned, making Donghyuck's face shine bright. Everyone was in a splendid mood today. And everyone, but Chanyeol and Junmyeon, was clad in a shirt and shorts, ready to go swimming.

 

"You have activities. Your supervisor will probably not be fond of babysitting us, too," Chanyeol then agreed with Junmyeon. He had caught up on and remembered that the river was taboo.

 

"Then, will you at least come to the river with us, and say goodbye there?" Jaemin asked, folding his arms across his chest.

 

"Where we met?" Junmyeon eyed the two boys fooling around in the distance.

 

Renjun's mouth fell open. "You met at the river? Seriously? Wow. This just gets stranger and stranger."

 

"Renjun, be quiet." Mark sighed. "Excuse him. He doesn't really understand . . . anything, actually."

 

Renjun protested, and although playing it cool right after, he did look a tad hurt.

 

"No, not there," Chenle picked it up. "I think it would be a little depressing if you ended up in the same spot after all this. We'll take a shortcut to a playground that's a little further ahead from where we met. Wait, you do have to follow the river, right?"

 

"That's right," Chanyeol said. "Walking, walking.." He shook Junmyeon, who leaned against his arm. Chanyeol's skin was warm, he felt it through the fabric of his shirt.

 

The boys agreed, and soon they were all on their way, trying to catch up to Jeno and Jisung who were walking into the wrong direction.

...

 

"Are you sure you don't want to join us? It's fun!" Donghyuck said, and pointed at Mark, Jeno and Jisung in the water. Jeno was climbing out onto the riverbank again, to jump on top of Jisung. It was breezy at the river, their voices only disturbed by the sloshing of the water. A fresh smell lay in the air, mingling with something else.

 

"No, I think this is where we have to leave. Thank you," Junmyeon turned to Jaemin. "For your hospitality."

 

"Yeah! All the badges and cakes for you!" Chanyeol laughed. "Thank you."

 

Jisung managed to escape Mark's attempt to drown him, and shouted from the water that they should join. Chanyeol waved it off and then goodbye. Jisung insisted, but finally came to accept it. The three of them in the water waved goodbye, too.

 

"It was an interesting experience." Jaemin started saying his goodbyes, and this tone suited his voice well. "I hope that you won't find yourself in a battlefield, on your way to have your questions answered."

 

Junmyeon detached his eyes from the boys in the water and looked at Jaemin. He remembered. It was too late to ask him questions now, though. And telling Jaemin his life story in order to hear his opinion . . . it was a lot, and unfair for Jaemin. It was a lot to think about, and Jaemin seemingly did that enough.

 

One final round of goodbyes later, and Junmyeon and Chanyeol walked off, the boys slowly fading into the distance until they were unseen.

 

…

 

Junmyeon was fascinated to see the environment change around them again—the grey stone he’d been walking on ended, and bordered on a beautiful, bright meadow. The green grass looked healthy, with no weeds to be seen, and every now and then they walked past a batch of daisies. The purple sky transitioned to deep blue through a beautiful, smooth gradient.

  
The childish and colourful world of the boy scouts had turned into a gorgeous summer landscape—radiating a certain laziness, and carefree aura, that gave Junmyeon a feeling of safety and trust.

A soft breeze brushed through their hair, and Chanyeol curiously looked around. He pointed at the ripe fruit hanging at the trees they passed occasionally, and Junmyeon smiled.

 

This was so different from what the boys had called Dream City, and Junmyeon was lost in the atmosphere that loosened every tense feeling. For once, he wasn’t completely aware of the adamantium laced skeleton inside of him. For once, Junmyeon felt—normal. Naive, normal, content; he felt happy.

 

The mutants kept walking the river; the hue of its blue had changed as well—pastel blue had turned into a deep, crystal clear blue that resembled the cleanest ocean.

 

Junmyeon felt warm. It wasn’t hot, but the warmth of the sun was so pleasant and nice on his skin that it made him feel tired. He couldn’t know for sure, but he guessed it was around afternoon. The sun made him want to curl up in the soft grass and fall into a blissful slumber.

 

He noticed that Chanyeol was in a similar state. The smile that never left Chanyeol’s face looked even more genuine, and with the sun lighting up his face, making his teeth and eyes sparkle, making him look happier than ever . . . Junmyeon averted his eyes. Chanyeol really was gorgeous.

 

Junmyeon wondered if this was the constant state of the place, and turned around to see Dream City in the distance. It was a strange division of land, truly.

 

“Chanyeol?” Junmyeon asked, his voice unexpectedly brisk.

 

His companion’s answer was a simple dreamy look signaling his attention.

 

“How long do you think we’ve been walking?”

 

“I don’t know, really,” Chanyeol said. “But it’s kind of pleasant here, Jun. I like it.”

 

He extended his hand. Junmyeon wasn’t sure what to do, but with an inviting nod of the head, Chanyeol showed him that he simply wanted to hold his hand. Hesitantly, Junmyeon reached out for it, and noticed that Chanyeol’s hand was cold—it wasn’t a bad feeling, contrasting but not weighing out the summer warmth, it was refreshing.

 

And the gesture didn’t mean more. It was innocent and Chanyeol’s way of expressing that he enjoyed Junmyeon’s presence. Although he was uncertain in what way, Junmyeon appreciated Chanyeol, too. Albeit cold, Chanyeol’s hands were soft and smooth, a feeling that fit perfectly into his hand.

 

They held onto each other for a little longer, listening to the faint sloshing of the river against the riverbank, watching the grass become flat and darker where the water overflowed. Adding to the daisies they were passing, a greater variety of flowers appeared, along with the smell of apple pie.

 

Apple pie. Junmyeon had tasted it once, at a banquet he attended undercover, ready to assassinate the head of the private club reserved for multi millionaires only. He had loved it, and the smell in the air was ever so inviting. All he wanted now was a slice of apple pie.

 

Somewhere in the near distance, Junmyeon spotted a picnic table. Two figures were sitting on the benches, bowed over whatever they were holding in their hands. They appeared to be conversing passionately, only stopping to eat. They blend in perfectly with the surroundings, a special sight within the summer feeling.

 

Chanyeol let go of his hand, and Junmyeon turned to face him. “Should we talk to them? I think they could help us. They look like they’re familiar with this place.”

 

Junmyeon considered it. This was a paradise—he would expect anyone they’d meet to be kind and helpful. He would trust them to tell him and Chanyeol where next to go. Maybe they could also let them know whether it was better to follow the river, or skip it and try to find out? There was nothing to lose, anyway, Junmyeon believed. “We can try.”

 

Closing in, Chanyeol grabbed his hand again, and this time, Junmyeon interlocked their fingers without hesitation and more confidence. Though, he did feel his face heating up, but he didn’t dwell on it and focused on the two men giving them their attention.

 

“Excuse me,” Chanyeol beamed. “We’re looking for a way to leave this place. Do you happen to know how?”

 

Hearing Chanyeol say those words, Junmyeon wasn’t even sure if he did want to leave. Dream City had been extraordinary, the kids fun company; but this place was so close to their world—their world was flawed, but this place was perfect. He still wanted to curl up in the grass, maybe next to Chanyeol, and sleep forever. And they couldn’t forget that there was someone waiting for them, leaving now would be . . .

 

But he listened when one of the men replied to Chanyeol’s question. The man had dark, golden skin, which was shining in the sun. His silky black hair fell into his face, parting in the middle to reveal a tiny bit of forehead. “We’ve never left the place. We wouldn’t know how.”

 

Chanyeol and Junmyeon had interrupted them while they were eating; each of them had two burgers in front of them, and white candy with blue and pink edges.

 

“That’s alright,” Chanyeol hummed. “Thank you, anyway.”

 

Junmyeon noticed the other man’s eyes wandering down to their interlocked fingers. He awkwardly released Chanyeol’s hand and let it fall next to his body, making him look stiff and uncomfortable. The man chuckled and shot his friend a glance.

 

“Why don’t you eat with us?” he asked, running a hand through his flaming orange hair and resting his head on his palm.

 

Junmyeon was indeed hungry. And even though he wanted to trust the men because of the beauty of their home, he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit wary, and so he left it up for Chanyeol to decide. His friend looked down to meet his eyes, as if to question if Junmyeon wanted to stay. He gave a shy nod, and Chanyeol agreed for the both of them.

 

He noticed that his own behaviour had changed. Junmyeon wanted to have a tighter grip on himself; he let the atmosphere carry him away—he was capable of speaking for himself, and he didn’t need Chanyeol to speak for them both; but he was so sleepy, and dreamy . . .

 

“My name’s Jongin,” the golden skinned man said and patted the bench next to him. Chanyeol sat down and introduced himself. Jongin introduced the other man as Sehun, who offered the space next to him to Junmyeon. Sehun handed the plate with his untouched second burger to Junmyeon. Chanyeol was already digging in, the burger looking quite small in his large hands.

 

Jongin took one of the sweets and ate it, handing another to Chanyeol who politely declined. “So, if you’re not from here, where are you from?” He asked, leaning back, and adjusting his shirt. Junmyeon thought the flower pattern spread across the green of the cloth was pretty, and Chanyeol must have thought the same—Junmyeon saw that Chanyeol was changing his appearance again, his blue hair becoming pink with only a hint of blue, his eyes adopting the colour his hair had been, and he, too, was now wearing a colourful hawaii shirt. It made Junmyeon feel out of place once again; him still wearing the white shirt and black pants from when he left the facility.

 

That was where he was from. But should he tell? He didn’t want to scare off their new friends with his past.

But Junmyeon didn’t have anything else to tell, his life at the facility was the only thing he knew, and he had just received the possibility to shape a different future. His journey with Chanyeol hadn’t been too long, either . . . so he hoped that Chanyeol had a less scary response.

 

“I don’t remember,” Chanyeol said, and it surprised Junmyeon. He himself was fully aware of what he had survived at the facility, and he couldn’t believe that Chanyeol simply forgot about where he was from. Then again, Chanyeol had spent a longer period of time here. Maybe he had lost his memories over time . . . Junmyeon would have loved to know where he came from, though. And what more there was to Chanyeol than his bright self and beauty, tied to his past. Junmyeon’s face softened almost unnoticeably upon Chanyeol’s uncertain glancing around.

 

The men seemed to have the same thought. Sehun raised his eyebrows. “You don’t remember what you did before Limbo?”

 

“Limbo,” Junmyeon repeated, pleased with the new piece of information. “So that’s what this place is.”

 

Jongin chuckled. “Yeah, Limbo, my friend. A place where time is not real. You don’t age, nothing changes. Never ending loop.”

 

Junmyeon bit into his burger. He didn’t know what to think about . . . Limbo. He didn’t know if it was a good thing, to be living a careless life, or if it was bad to be practically immortal. Remaining young always, beautiful always, having fun always, or at least be content always . . . it was alluring. Who wouldn’t love to live in a place like this?

 

As if he had read his mind, Jongin spoke up again. “Well, it’s not like we never die. Maybe one day you do find out how to leave, and then you’ll be old. Depends on how long you’ve been here, but you can’t guess, because you can’t have a sense of time here.”

 

Chanyeol protested. “That’s not true. I’ve been counting my days here, and so far, four years have passed.”

 

“Now _that’s_ not true,” Sehun yawned into the crook of his arm and blinked lazily. “You must’ve imagined. I don’t blame you, though. If you come around asking for a way out then I’m sure you must be desperate. It might be your way to cope.”

 

“His way to cope? You make it sound like this Limbo is a bad thing, when you two do seem happy here,” Junmyeon remarked, and took another bite. The burger was heavenly, its taste almost addicting.

 

Sehun’s and Jongin’s indifferent and lazy expressions changed for the mere second they took to glance at each other with raised eyebrows. “It’s the same, always,” Jongin said.

 

“In Limbo, you can’t expect change,” Sehun added. “So why would we stress and panic, if we could simply choose to be happy?”

 

Junmyeon was silent. Sehun had a point. If he could choose to be happy, he would definitely do so, no doubt. But it wasn’t that easy, and he was glad that it was for Sehun and Jongin.

 

“So, Chanyeol, do you really not remember what you did before coming here?” Jongin asked again, and bit into his burger. He shook his bangs out of his eyes and glanced up at Chanyeol from his bowed posture.

 

Chanyeol shook his head, and Junmyeon could see that he was anxious. He thought it was mean of Jongin, when Chanyeol had already explained that he didn’t know.

 

“What did _you_ do before Limbo?” Junmyeon asked instead. He didn’t want to put Chanyeol into an uncomfortable place, and his friend gave him a grateful smile.

 

Jongin and Sehun laughed. The other two men didn’t understand what was so funny. “You got us,” Jongin huffed. “It’s not that easy to explain, but essentially, we’ve been here for . . . forever. I’ve never known something different. Limbo is my home.”

 

“That seems like a simple enough answer. Why would that be difficult to explain?” Chanyeol replied.

 

Sehun huffed. “Trust him when he says that. Limbo wasn’t always just like this. It has a history. Most history is oral, so lots went lost, but it's quintessence remained."

 

"Sounds similar to Dream City. The boys told us what they knew about Dream's history." Chanyeol said, looking at his burger with furrowed brows.

 

Jongin lowered his burger. “What the hell is Dream City?”

 

Chanyeol and Junmyeon exchanged quizzical looks. “What do you mean, you don’t know what Dream City is? It’s on the way here.”

 

Sehun put his hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder, who was really tempted to shrug it off. He felt its warmth through his clothes. “There’s nothing outside of Limbo.”

 

“I thought the entirety of this place is Limbo. Dream City would be a part of it,” Junmyeon said, and put his own hand on Sehun’s. “How come you don’t know about it when it’s right there?”

 

He removed Sehun’s hand from his shoulder and pointed in the direction they had come from. The buildings and playgrounds should be visible from here. Sehun stood to see, and so did Jongin, but after a moment they sat again.

 

“I don’t see anything.” They said simultaneously, and focused on their food again. Jongin grabbed another piece of candy, unwrapped it and ate it. He squinted his eyes at the taste, it looked as if it was sour.

 

“To me, Limbo is this,” Sehun then said. “Maybe you wanted to see Dream City? It could be different for you.”

 

“You said Limbo can’t change—” Junmyeon attempted to argue, but Jongin cut him off.

 

“He said Limbo can’t change, but for us, Limbo is this place. Limbo is unpredictable, after all. It could have been that you needed Dream City. Or . . .” Jongin trailed off, mysteriously.

 

"Or what?" Sehun was the one to ask this time, not catching onto what his friend was saying.

 

Jongin crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. "Maybe the spirits want to either mess with you or show you something."

 

Sehun's face lit up then, and adopted a grin like Jongin. He ran his hand through his hair again and huffed. "The spirits."

 

"So the what, spirits? Are changing Limbo? That's kind of cool." Chanyeol wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He was being quite messy, meanwhile Junmyeon paid more attention to the conversation than to his food.

 

"They created Limbo. And they're still around, unseen, but they are here. So maybe they're intrigued by you, and they want to show you things." Sehun explained, and pushed his plate aside. Something about Sehun's explanation sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why, and Chanyeol didn't seem to realize something either.

 

Junmyeon was reminded of the sun’s peaceful presence when the temperature rose. As he had eaten, and the warmth spread in his stomach, he felt even more tired. He accepted that Jongin and Sehun might know better than them—that Limbo could be different for everyone, and yes, maybe even spirits tried to show them what made Limbo special.

 

Chanyeol suddenly removed the top bread of his almost finished burger and put it on the table. “What is this?”

 

Jongin glanced at Chanyeol’s burger and shrugged, resting his head on his arm and putting his sunglasses on. His necklace collided with the wooden table. “Strawberry wafer, it’s nice, isn’t it? It’s supposed to make the burger taste even better.”

 

Junmyeon, too, removed the top bread and saw the colourful wafer inside. It was on top of the meat, almost melting into it. He didn’t mind the wafer, it was something new, but Jongin and Sehun had been eating it as well. Chanyeol and Junmyeon put the bread back on top and finished up.

 

“Okay. Want me to show you something?” Jongin spoke, after a moment of complete silence.

 

Junmyeon replied, “Depends on what it is.”

 

“Sehun and I spend most of our time—” he pointed at the forest that was to be seen not so far away from them. Roughly a few hundred meters away, the forest covered the landscape. “—right over there. If you want to know more about the spirits, that’s where you can go. There are special artifacts related to the spirits, and if you're interested, we could tell you more about Limbo with their help. What d’ya say?”

 

Junmyeon eyed Sehun. Up close, he spotted a few freckles on his face, only slightly dark against his already softly tanned skin. He wasn’t nowhere as tan as Jongin, but he looked just as summery. He, too, just like everything about this Limbo, radiated peacefulness and extraordinary beauty.

 

He took a moment to think about Jongin’s proposition. Chanyeol fidgeted around in front of him, and Junmyeon decided to ask him first. “Chanyeol?”

 

Chanyeol ran a hand through his pink hair and his eyes sparkled. “Why not! I’d be interested to find out how the spirits affect Limbo.

 

“Then it’s settled?” Jongin smirked. “Let’s go.”

 

Junmyeon stood shortly after their new friends did. They didn’t bother to clean up where they’d been eating, instead, they just headed right for the forest.

Chanyeol hung on their heels, and reached for Junmyeon’s hand again. The latter didn’t think twice and interlocked their fingers immediately, just like earlier, already grown familiar to the feeling of Chanyeol’s ever so cold palm against his.

 

Jongin and Sehun’s pace was quick, and Junmyeon found himself struggling to keep up. Their feet seemingly flew over the juicy grass; Junmyeon and Chanyeol weren’t nearly as fast, but they kept on it.

 

By the time Jongin and Sehun disappeared into the forest, Chanyeol and Junmyeon had barely made half of the way. But Sehun halted, waved at them, and then followed Jongin into whatever the forest bore.

 

Half of the way only. Why was that? Maybe because the sun on his skin is so lazy and perfect, or maybe because he couldn’t stop focusing on Chanyeol’s palm. Perhaps the grass wound against and wrapped around their feet, asking them to stay and rest with them. It’s also possible that the ground vibrated, barely noticeable, so faint yet soothing it made Junmyeon sleepy.

 

Their two new friends were unaffected by it. They must have been, otherwise they would be strodding next to them right now. And maybe they would be having a casual conversation about the weather.

But that’s not the case, because they were out of sight now.

 

 _They’re used to it_. Junmyeon realized. He squeezed Chanyeol’s hand and thought about how life would be like here. Together. What bothered Junmyeon about this thought is that the actual inhabitants of Limbo seemed unaffected by its beauty, and that’s something Junmyeon wouldn’t dare to be. _How can such beauty be the standard?_ And it could be fun. With the boy scouts, it could be fun.

 

It took forever, but they arrived. Junmyeon saw that the trees were rather close to each other, barely providing enough space for the two of them to slip between the trunks and follow their guides into the forest. The tree tops naturally blocked the sun from lighting the forest, but a few rays found their way through the branches and provided just enough light for them to be able to see where they’re going.

 

Junmyeon had to let go of Chanyeol’s hand to slip through between the next two trees. It was getting harder to move forward, and Junmyeon waited for his friend to do the same.

Except his friend was much taller and broader, and Chanyeol’s first attempt to join Junmyeon on the other side was unsuccessful.

 

“Oh,” was Chanyeol’s only reaction. He stood tall again and eyed the trees, feeling around the branches.

 

Junmyeon wanted to draw his claws. “Step away, I’ll cut the path free.”

 

“It’s okay, you’re still injured. I’ll do it myself.” Junmyeon watched as Chanyeol shapeshifted into him and cut the path free himself. Chanyeol—as Junmyeon—cried out when he drew his claws, making Junmyeon feel guilty.

 

Once the way was free, and Chanyeol had slipped through, he didn’t hesitate to shift back into the Chanyeol he was used to.

With help of the faint light shining right through the leaves above Chanyeol, Junmyeon saw that Chanyeol’s knuckles bled profusely. Tears were silently streaming down Chanyeol’s cheeks.

 

“Maybe you should’ve just let me.” Junmyeon tried to soothe and wrapped his hands around Chanyeol’s wrists. He looked at his bloody hands and tried to make out the slits where the claws had emerged out of Chanyeol's hands. _They should have disappeared when Chanyeol turned back into himself_ , Junmyeon thought.

 

“I wanted to try it.” Chanyeol replied, his voice only slightly shaky.

 

Junmyeon looked up at him and sighed. “Why?”

 

Chanyeol didn’t give a reply and just looked away in embarrassment. Junmyeon chuckled and assured him that the bleeding would stop soon and the wounds would close quickly in his case. Chanyeol looked at Junmyeon's bandages.

 

Junmyeon knew what Chanyeol was thinking. "Hey, it's not going to be like my hands. I don't know what went wrong there, but I'm sure that yours will heal."

 

Chanyeol sighed and nodded. "You're probably right. They're not part of my mutation, after all."

 

“Exactly. Does it still hurt?”

 

At that, Chanyeol shook his head. “Just when they first came out.”

  
  
  
  


They’d completely lost track of Jongin and Sehun. They tried to keep moving forward, but it was increasingly difficult for Chanyeol to move while Junmyeon still could. This time, whenever Chanyeol’s path needed to be cut free, Junmyeon did it. He still thought it to be interesting of Chanyeol to attempt using his powers. He had succeeded, but he also had to feel the pain that came with it.

 

When Junmyeon’s claws first emerged, he was thirteen years old. Unlike Chanyeol, he hadn’t just cried out once. He had cried and screamed and wanted to lock himself up for days. While the scientists needed Junmyeon to have as little contact with his mother as possible, they had to involve her directly. She had to come and stay to comfort him and assure him of the fact that this was normal and supposed to happen.

 

There they were.

 

Junmyeon found them. The trees parted to reveal a small glade, minimal, with hammocks hanging from the trees. Since the trees parted here for the sun to give more light, the glade was ablaze and absolutely lovely.

 

Sehun's ankles were crossed over the cloth, and his feet were the only parts of his body that were fully visible. His pale ankles seemed almost white in the dim light, and Junmyeon noticed just now that he was barefoot.

 

Jongin wasn't lying inside the hammock, but simply placed on top of it like a swinging seat as he waited for Chanyeol and Junmyeon to arrive.

 

They were there now, and Junmyeon didn't quite know what to think of it. The glade was beautiful, and there seemed to be no other purpose than use it to take a good nap in the middle of a lightly breezy summer day; but they'd been taken here to learn about Limbo, like they had about Dream City, and finally receive an advantage to work towards their goal. At the end of the line, someone was waiting for Junmyeon, and if he was going to understand their intentions and make his journey easier, he should know Limbo's history. Especially since what he had learned previously was . . . There were a lot of holes, and Junmyeon caught himself wondering why he was searching in the first place. Perhaps he was made to live here. He might not be made out of the same wood as their new friends, but on a strange level, he did feel a sense of of equality with them. He didn't feel like he knew Limbo well—how would he?—but there was something telling him that he belonged. Especially with Chanyeol at his side, because if the future looked like relaxing at the river while chatting with Chanyeol all day, then he couldn't imagine something brighter than that.

 

He stepped around to the center of the glade, getting closer to Jongin at sloth speed so that Chanyeol's tall figure wasn't caught in the trees. Chanyeol grabbed for his palm again, and the cold startled him once more. Chanyeol gave him a shy smile, and Junmyeon reassuringly squeezed his hand.

 

Jongin set his feet to the ground, dipping his feet into the grass as if it was water, and let his hammock come to a halt. He gave Sehun's hammock a light push, and the man sat up to face them in return.

 

"It took you quite a while to get here." Jongin eyed them from head to toe, and his eyes lingered on their linked fingers at their sides, arms pressed together. "There's no need to be so anxious."

 

Were they anxious? Junmyeon couldn't tell. There were a lot of feelings at the same time, and maybe he had to learn how to read himself, if someone else seemed to be better at it.

 

"What now?" Junmyeon asked, and he felt his friend shift his weight from one foot to the other. His hand jolted slightly with the movement.

 

Jongin gestured towards the other side of the glade. "The artifacts are there," he began to explain. "Would you be so kind to get them, Junmyeon? You're our special guest today."

 

Jongin sat straight in his hammock, and Junmyeon felt wary all of a sudden.

 

He let go of Chanyeol's hand and scanned the place Jongin pointed at. "Will do. What about Chanyeol?"

 

"Chanyeol can sit down already, while we wait for you to get the artifacts. Only then I can start telling you about the spirits, because the story just isn't quite complete without the key objects that appear." Jongin smiled, and it created a pool of warmth in Junmyeon's stomach. It contrasted the cold that still nibbled at Junmyeon's hand from Chanyeol's touch, and it was warmer than he had felt before. It created comfort, and ease, and as he watched Chanyeol plant himself down, he couldn't bring himself to find a reason to deny Jongin's request.

 

He walked quite a bit until he found a second glade, accessible through a fog of branches first. All Junmyeon had to do was to push the branches aside, and they didn't shoot back to whip at his face. His feet slipped away and sticked to the mud on the path, and for a second, Junmyeon wondered if he was wrong. But there was no other path, and so he kept walking along the muddy trail that likely led to his destination.

 

Junmyeon realized that this was the first time he was by himself. The last days had been spent with Chanyeol by his side, and now that he was left to his own thoughts, he was able to fathom just how close he had gotten to Chanyeol in this short amount of time. Chanyeol was dependent on him, and Junmyeon required his help, too. But at the end of the day, they weren't really doing anything. They just . . . walked, and things happened on their own. Was it meant to be that way?

 

When Junmyeon finally reached solid ground, and the tree crowns lightened above him, Junmyeon heard a crunching sound under the sole of his simple black shoes. They were good for nothing, really, and if he hadn't been invisibly padded through a healing factor, his feet would have probably been beyond sore and bloody by now. The sole was so light he felt every tiniest stone, and now was the only time he cared to pay attention to these details. He rose his foot and found another yellow note, the third one in his time in Limbo.

 

The yellow notes were their way of communication. Junmyeon still found it strange, to send them off on a journey, making them believe it's their only choice, with only little information. Maybe this was the reason they were asked to pay attention. And maybe that's also the reason they feel forced to find out about Limbo, so that they could understand.

 

He picked up the letter and unfolded it. As expected, the now familiar handwriting graced the paper, and the light made it easy to decipher what it read.

 

_You're alone now, Junmyeon, which is fortunate. Have you been paying attention? You let your mind and body do what they want in Limbo, right? Have you been feeling? You've been so passive, get a grip on yourself. You need to make sure you're fully aware of every move you make, because you shape what happens in Limbo. You need to make yourself understand, otherwise you will never understand. It is thoughtful of you to help Chanyeol, but maybe that is not what you need to do._

 

This was the only longer letter since the very first one, and Junmyeon had struggled to figure out what the writer meant. It was worded like Junmyeon had been doing wrong. Limbo was good to him so far, but the letter seemed to be implying that he let his guard down too much. But he can't remember an occasion where he did . . .

 

Yes. When they sat down to eat with Jongin and Sehun, when they accepted to follow them into the forest, and even before that, when the he'd let the weather determine his mood and even his attitude towards Chanyeol. Chanyeol was a friend. But when they reached Limbo, Chanyeol had turned into a desire. There were a lot of things Junmyeon let happen, there were a lot of things where Junmyeon had just watched without acting, and if the writer meant this, then they were right.

 

Junmyeon felt cornered. The letter rubbed him the wrong way, because he trusted it more than a friend he made. Still, he was sent by himself to get the artifacts, and on his way, he found a letter that was addressing him and only him. It was difficult to sort his thoughts.

 

He folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. For now, he was going to resume the search and return to his friends, but he needed to keep the content of the letter in mind. If it meant what he thought it did, then he needed to be more careful.

  


A few meters away, Junmyeon saw a box laying on a tree trunk. Beside the trunk, a woman stood tall, and she was familiar. He wasn't able to fully recognize her, but there was something about her that was all too familiar.

 

She stood like a doll, not batting an eyelash or moving a finger. Junmyeon hesitated about approaching her, but ended up heading straight to the box. If he was doing wrong, then she would stop him, Junmyeon was sure. He shouldn’t be surprised about her presence; Limbo wasn’t limited to only the people that they met. There were cities, occupants, and Limbo belonged as much to her as it did to Jongin, Sehun, and the children of Dream.

 

"Would it be alright if I . . . took this?" The box was wooden, a dark brown that shimmered in the light. He pointed at it, but the woman didn't show any reaction whatsoever. He took a few steps closer, and still no signs of life besides the steady movement of her chest. "I don't want to cause troubles."

 

When he'd taken the box and there was still no reaction, Junmyeon dared to be a little bold and stepped away from the trunk, coming to a halt right in front of the woman. She didn't move when he stared into her eyes, or let his gaze wander down to her feet. She was clad in a dress, black and formal, and her dark hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. A few strands of her hair framed her thin face, and wait, didn't his—

 

Mom. Look like that? He took a step closer, feeling the urge to grab the woman's wrist and shake an answer out of her. Because now he saw, that the woman's resemblance to his mother was so uncanny, it could have been her standing there. It was unlikely, but as he studied her face and blanked out everything around him, it was clear that the woman in front of him could not be anyone but his mother.

He hadn't had the time to miss her, he felt. She stood there, now, and all those feelings came back. Even more so because she didn't speak, or move, or even let her eyes wander to scan her son's face. There was an abundance of things Junmyeon felt, but None . . . None mattered. Except for one.

 

Junmyeon held the box tighter to his chest. He needed to try something, although it was strange. Slowly, he leveled his hand with his mother's face, and let it come closer until he was able to brush some hair out of her face when she showed no signs of protest. He tucked it behind her ear, and he was baffled and fascinated at the figure in front of him that he could have stayed forever in that very spot. The soft face he remembered was replaced by porcelain, a fragile change that didn’t fit his mother. He knew her as a strong woman, as if she was made of steel. She had made decisions that lifted stones off Junmyeon’s life. Or put more onto his path.

 

He lowered his hand, and brought it back to wrap around the box. "I wouldn't have thought it to be you." And he still didn't think it was her, not whole-heartedly, because anyone in their right mind knew that it wasn't possible.

 

"You did a lot for me," he continued nonetheless. She sacrificed herself to get him out of the facility, safe, to escape his destiny. "I'll appreciate everything you've done until my very last breath." As he spoke the words, there was a contradicting feeling rising inside of him, that didn't match his words at all. He felt wrath, anger, because for some reason, he shouldn't be thanking her. That imposter? Or was it something else?

 

"You brought me into this world." A fact. "Fully aware of what would happen." He couldn't stop the words coming from his mouth, and for a second he feared it was too late and that he needed to apologize. But there was still no reaction, of course, and he let his mouth run wild. He was feeling. Not what he expected, but the woman triggered something inside of him that had waited. He expressed that something with words he wouldn't have ever thought to speak. "I wasn't supposed to have a life. I wasn't supposed to end up here, either. So what is it that I have to do?"

 

He looked down at the box in his hand, and he felt the letter in his pocket. It was heavier than it should be, and as the reminder that it served, it did its job several moments too late. He took things as they were, but Junmyeon, you need to ask questions.

 

"My purpose was clear. But what if things turned out differently, like they ended up? I am here now, and what will happen after that?" He returned his mother's, or whoever it was that didn't blink back, stare and shivered. “I wasn’t supposed to have a life. That was made clear often enough.”

 

How he was raised. Or how he almost . . . almost died, and Limbo. There was no telling of how life would be outside of Limbo for him, now. Whatever it meant, whatever waited outside of Limbo now.

 

He stood there, looking at the woman. Her features were roughened by age, but Junmyeon thought that she was beautiful. His mother. He imagined something he never dared to before. Out of fear that his thoughts we’re being monitored, Junmyeon had never built up enough courage to think outside the box. To think about what could have been if he had never been born into the facility.

 

When he was a teenager, he saw children going to school. Maybe he would have done that, too, and play games in the back of the yard like he had seen them do. He had seen families going for ice cream with their children. When he was working at daylight, he saw a lot of things that never struck him as desireable, or pleasurable. Now that Limbo was his reality, there were a lot of desirable things he thought would have been possible for him outside of it, and it would be way too difficult to try and achieve them in Limbo. Well, the children of Dream were a resort that offered a lot of change—they had been taken care of, not by a mother, but by friends. The feeling of being on the receiving end of such care had been indescribable, and if Junmyeon had to choose a place in Limbo he would want to stay in, it would have been Dream City.

 

His mother wanted the best for him. Perhaps the best for him was Dream City, where he had felt at ease for the first time in forever. If he had not been tasked with meeting who was responsible, that is where he would have stayed. He could return, for now, that didn’t seem out of the question. Looking at his mother like this, made him want to think about what was actually going to happen to him. A mother, who wanted the best—and Junmyeon had only let people do what they wanted with him his entire life, not caring whether it was right or wrong. Or what it meant for him.

 

Lots of things came to mind. Lots of thoughts. And Junmyeon, as important as it might be, didn’t want to consider them. A lack of opportunities might lay ahead, and he couldn’t afford yet another occasion where he disappointed his perished mother.

 

"I need to get going now. This doesn't make sense. Nothing here makes sense."

 

He was going to leave her behind. Junmyeon had done that before, and an alien feeling developed inside of him. He could not quite pinpoint what it meant, it made him feel heavy and like he should not be leaving this soon. Or leaving at all.

 

Junmyeon’s grip around the box was even tighter now. Brief hesitance struck him, but he brushed it aside.

 

And when he turned on his heel to walk back the path he came from, and join the people that waited back there, the woman still didn't move. She didn't need to. Because Junmyeon understood that the reminder, it wasn't the letter. It was her. She was an anchor, and anchor Junmyeon just released. Because he was asked to feel, and that was what he was doing now. He let himself feel, and with those feelings, a lot of other things came. Chanyeol waited back there, and Junmyeon's goal was to leave this place with Chanyeol in one piece. Whatever beauties Limbo held, it wasn't for him. He was here to learn, if that was what the writer meant. So he was going to do as told and nothing more.

 

To feel while controlling himself, maybe that was difficult. But there was nothing realer than that, and what Junmyeon didn't know yet, was that Limbo was all about reality. None was there to tell him.

  


The path back was quicker and lighter, new-found control gripping Junmyeon tight. He was locked in his mind when he found himself back in the glade, Chanyeol's wide eyes looking up at him from the ground. He let himself feel the wood in his hands, and he handed Jongin the box without any more thoughts and much less words.

 

"Thank you," was Jongin's only reply, and gestured for Junmyeon to join Chanyeol on the floor. He did, and slightly leaned in to Chanyeol, who elbowed his side softly.

 

Jongin didn't need the box for the beginning of his story. As he spoke, Junmyeon worried that his mind would keep wandering to that woman, his mother or whoever, and he doubted that he would ever get over the "encounter". But Jongin's choice of words was intriguing, and soon the pictures of his mother were all pushed aside.

 

"Limbo hasn't always been what it is now. A long time ago, this place was full of spirits, like you have learned before. All kinds of them," Jongin explained. "And they needed a leader. Two spirits were competing for that place, except they weren't fighting, and they didn't know that they were doing it, either."

 

"How does that work?" Chanyeol interrupted, his head rested on his knees.

 

"Their fellow spirits felt that the two of them were special, and only one of them was destined to be king, but no one knew just who exactly was the perfect choice." Jongin underlined certain words with brief hand gestures, and to Junmyeon it seemed like Jongin had been doing this all his life. Sit strangers down to listen to what shaped Limbo, and speak with a voice as if he had wanted nothing more than the attention he got at the moment.

 

"The choice was difficult to make, and both spirits showed characteristics that could benefit them, and characteristics that were less . . . practical, to say the least. But at the end of the day, in one way or another, both of them were worthy of the position."

 

Jongin played with the lid and shot Sehun a glance. Sehun nodded at him, and Jongin removed the lid from the box and bowed over to place it on the ground. "In the end, it all came down to this whistle here, the spirits realized."

 

Jongin reached into the box and showed them the wooden whistle that was placed inside. Junmyeon saw that it was made out of the same material as the box, and Chanyeol squinted his eyes at it, as if to try and figure out what's so special about it. Jongin had gotten to the whistle fairly quickly, and Junmyeon wondered how short a story that shaped Limbo could be. Perhaps all he needed to know was who won and became king, and a thought struck him.

 

He straightened his back as he watched Jongin play around with the whistle. What if whoever sent them here was the king?

 

If he was to meet a king, that could give Junmyeon an idea of how to behave. A clue, a small one, on who expected them. They knew nothing about who sent them here, but a king was plausible. If they had trespassed into his territory, or if they were of greater purpose for him. Yes, a king. _One clue_ , Junmyeon thought. Better than None.

 

Jongin continued. “Like I said before, either of them becoming king would bring serious advantages and disadvantages. There was no way of telling who was the right choice. Eventually, the spirits started relying on personal preference, who they got along with best, who seemed more likeable, all that. But that’s not the right way to determine who held the fate of the people in his hands, am I correct?”

 

Junmyeon nodded slowly. It was unreliable and reckless, to choose a king in that way. But Limbo turned out just fine, so whoever did take the lead must have done a good job.

 

“What were the two spirits like?” Chanyeol shuffled closer to Junmyeon. That was a good question.

 

“Hm . . .” Jongin pressed his heels into the ground and turned, twisting the cloth of the hammock above him, to face Sehun completely. “What would you say, Sehun?”

 

Sehun didn’t think long to give his reply. “The first one was well reserved, he didn’t speak much, but he was trustworthy and skilled. He had a sharp wit, and solved problems in no time if he wanted to. The problem was that, if he wasn’t interested in the position, people feared that he would ruin Limbo. Even if that wasn’t his intention, just . . . lack of care and motivation, to put it simply.

 

“The other one behaved on impulse, and was able to make the right choices without it requiring any thought. He was obedient, and careful, but there was a certain recklessness to his behavior that worried people; what if at some point, he doesn’t act appropriately in a situation of despair? What if his quick mind leads him, and Limbo, into an abyss?”

 

“It sounds similar.” Junmyeon stated, not breaking eye contact with Sehun. He meant it, the two spirits shared qualities, just a little altered.

 

“But they were so different,” Jongin replied. A moment of silence loomed over them, as if summoned by the nature of Jongin’s words. The atmosphere was not tight, on the contrary: relaxation accompanied the silence into their bodies.

 

"Of course, this story isn’t . . . it’s a metaphor," Jongin added and crushed Junmyeon's initial theory. About a king that waited for him. His explanation, his trying to make sense of what Limbo wanted from him. What he could offer.

 

"For what?" Junmyeon and Chanyeol asked in unison. There was a huge contrast in their tones. Chanyeol was genuinely curious. Junmyeon forced himself to not ask the question through gritted teeth, but it still sounded pressed. There it went, his only thought. Now there was None left.

 

"Many things. Mostly what you want to believe, though. Sometimes it sounds familiar, sometimes it sounds estranged. It depends on who you're telling it to." Jongin held the whistle to his lips, and lowered it again.

 

"Well . . . what happened then?" Chanyeol asked, obviously not understanding where Jongin was going with it.

 

"It all came down to this whistle." Sehun repeated Jongin's words. "Because although the two were different, and didn't even know each other, this whistle meant the same thing to them."

 

It was unexpected, and still Junmyeon knew it was going to happen; Jongin blowed into the whistle, and the consequences were fatal.

  


The shrill sound was one Junmyeon knew all too well.

 

It pierced through everything. The summer warmth, the calm atmosphere, the slight sounds of life within the trees, the happiness that was there and Junmyeon had lost, and through the thoughts of the woman back there. Shrill and high-pitched, it entered Junmyeon's very being and ripped him apart from inside.

 

When the sound emerged from the whistle, Chanyeol and Junmyeon jumped to their feet in no time. Junmyeon was dizzy, and the world spun around him as if he was the center of the universe. He knew the sound from the facility, but the consequences were quite different. It wasn't what they wanted to achieve with it, because Junmyeon felt completely different.

 

Jongin held the sound, putting all his breath into doing exactly what he knew was going to happen.

 

Besides the shrill sound, there were a few others as well. But Junmyeon buckled and the adamantium skeleton inside of him became heavier and heavier, almost dragging him onto the ground. The claws that lay inside the back of his hands scratched at the surface from inside, begging to be set free, but it didn't happen. If Junmyeon were to look at his aching hands, then he'd see the movement from within, from the claws moving at incredible speed.

 

There were three ways scientists in the facility tried to achieve this reaction from Junmyeon.

 

The first one, and the modified method that was used right now, was the whistle. Through the whistle, Junmyeon used to be forced to obey the scientists' every wish and request. It caused his claws to emerge without his control, and readied him for the kill without Junmyeon having to do anything. He lost control over his body and mind, and the temporary numbness in his brain created just exactly what was needed. There wasn't much pain involved, except the first few times where the claws still stung and the wounds still cared to bleed. He was never left much time to consider the pain, and ponder over what he should be doing differently, because the whistle was used to reveal his purpose when Junmyeon couldn't act on it by himself. Yet.

 

The second method was through the injections. Multiple shots at a time were shot into his abdomen, and often ended up with Junmyeon lying down on the cold white floor in pain for days. His healing factor didn't help the pain subside when the injections were the cause, because it would defeat the purpose. He would buckle around sometimes, jerk left and right while the injections tried to work their magic. Though, they never did, because the injections never worked.

 

The third method was the trigger scent.

 

He felt as though he was being pushed around, and suddenly such pain shot through his head, as if it had been impaled on the sharpest stick and forcing him to jerk his head back while he almost bent over backwards. He looked right to the sky. Junmyeon tried to keep calm, desperately, and sought comfort through the tiny slits of clouds he was able to make out.

 

He wished he could escape. Escape was something he had thought about multiple times in his life, he had also thought about it when he first woke up in Limbo, but now it's the only need that he had.

 

The pain rocketed into what seemed like absolute madness. He had never experienced such pain before in his life. Even the very same sound of perhaps the same whistle never had this effect.

 

The invisible stick in his head pushed pain into the rest of his body, and his arms stiffened at his side, spread fingers, as if needles dug into the digits repeatedly.

 

He didn't know how he was still standing, because his legs were shaking incredibly fast and hard. Atop the stiffness, Junmyeon felt all kinds of pain, and he didn't know if he was lucky or not to still be alive at this point.

 

Chanyeol was doing something, too. But Junmyeon couldn't see, because his main focus was to resist the urge to do what the whistle wanted from him.

 

Chanyeol was definitely saying something.

 

In fact, he was screaming it.

 

Junmyeon jerked forward, the stick was just released, and his hands and arms were loose enough to work against the pain and press his hands to his ears. It didn't help the noise, and Jongin wasn't even blowing into the whistle anymore. Junmyeon fisted his hair and noticed a metallic taste in his mouth, perhaps from biting down on his tongue, or gnashing his teeth until he reached their roots.

 

Blood ran down his cheek, from the two slits he had cut himself when he tried to fight someone off, someone that came after him when had tried to leave the facility. It smelled like fire. There could have been a fire surrounding them.

 

A fire that would take everything. Because that was what needed to happen.

 

Junmyeon’s sight went hazy; like a camera, his eyes went in and out of focus, as if they were blinking, and through the haze he could see Chanyeol fall to the ground, holding his stomach. He heard Chanyeol gag, and shortly after Chanyeol threw up in front of him, laying defeated on the ground. Junmyeon himself felt his senses going crazy, picking up on all smells and sounds, feeling everything while his eyesight continued causing a headache.

His eyes proceeded to start zooming; closer at Chanyeol’s face, out of focus, out of Chanyeol’s face, closer at the vomit next to Chanyeol’s stiff body, out of focus—

 

“You okay?” Jongin’s voice echoed, but Junmyeon knew he didn’t mean the question because he knew. It was his fault, after all. He and Sehun were responsible for this.

 

Junmyeon’s heart leapt when his eyes refocused to see Jongin’s face uncomfortably close to his own. Static replaced the wild sounds in his ears when Junmyeon fell to the ground, right next to Chanyeol or even on top of him, blacking out and laying still. Before Junmyeon lost conscience for good, one thought found its way into his mind.

 

Why?

  


...

  


That’s why.

 

The sloshing of water echoed in his ears. He was only half awake, but he instantly thought of when he woke up to the aquarium rack, the rainbow, the peaceful atmosphere.

But it wasn’t comparable to now. The sloshing he heard now was violent, angry, and incredibly loud.

 

When Junmyeon had finally regained his senses, he attempted to sit up. Daring to open his eyes and hearing coughing, Junmyeon found Chanyeol shaking next to him. Chanyeol’s pink hair was wet, sticking to his forehead; Chanyeol’s clothes were completely soaked as well.

 

Under water?

 

A raft. They were on a raft. Junmyeon propped himself up on his elbows, exhaling as he looked around and checked the environment. He was absolutely terrified to find out that they were floating on the river, following the violent stream of the crystal clear water. Junmyeon recalled the note in his pocket, telling them to stay away from the river. And here they were, on a raft on said river, following the stream into the unknown.

The river was so wide that Junmyeon couldn’t even see the riverbanks on either side, let alone what was waiting ahead of them. What he did see in front of them, though, were Sehun and Jongin.

 

Jongin was shirtless in the water, his golden skin glistening in the sun. He was barely holding onto the raft—his head just lazily propped up on his crossed arms on top of it—looking up at Sehun as if he were in a tranquil trance.

 

Sehun, whose orange hair was a few shades darker due to the water. Pearls of water ran down his only slightly tanned but well defined body, torso covered in colourful tattoos. He was looking down to meet Jongin’s gaze as if the latter was his whole world. As if the final state of eternal peace was reached, undisturbed and unshakeable.

 

There was something about watching them that sparked a feeling inside of him. For a brief moment, he hoped he could have something like that with Chanyeol. A casual, innocent existence, filled with nothing but the other’s presence, the chirping of the birds, warmth against their skin . . . absolutely bizarre, and mesmerizing at the same time.

 

“Jun? Junmyeon!” Chanyeol’s voice ripped him out of his daydream. His head instinctively shot to face the direction the voice came from, and Chanyeol was frantically running his hands through his wet hair, in an attempt to dry it.

 

_Third, don’t bathe in or drink from the river. That would just ruin everything. Believe me when I say that._

 

Junmyeon snapped out of it. This wasn’t right. Jongin and Sehun were responsible for this. They had trusted them, but they went to far. He was finally able to look past the good things, and focus on the bad things. Like the writer wanted, with the note that was still in his pocket. The ‘writer’, the ‘king’—he had warned him. He had told him to feel. But Junmyeon had not understood how feelings would reveal the truth about Jongin and Sehun to him, and he didn’t know if he understood, now. Something lacked him, and that turned out to be fatal.

 

Maybe he should have went with it. Maybe he and Chanyeol should’ve taken the situation as it is, and give the endless spiral that is trust another try. Release all tension from their muscles, and join Jongin and Sehun.  No, they defended themselves. _Of course they did._

 

Junmyeon had no choice but to draw his claws this time. The band-aids had not been cut by the events woken by the whistle, where his claws had felt more like needles under his skin. He hissed when the claws emerged, cutting the band-aids and letting them fall onto the raft. To Junmyeon's surprise, the wounds _had_ healed well with Jaemin's treatment, and they weren't bleeding now. Whether or not they would close was less of a problem now.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

 

“What is this? Why did you use the whistle like that?” Chanyeol gasped, desperately trying to dry his hair, for he didn’t know the consequences of touching the water. Finally, not knowing made an impact on Chanyeol as well.

 

Jongin spoke. “Don’t mind us.”

 

Junmyeon slammed his adamantium claws into the wood, the cracking and splintering of the wood sudden and surprisingly loud. “Don’t mind you? First you use that whistle on us, then you throw us onto a raft; what are you doing?!”

 

But Jongin didn’t bother to give a reply. And Junmyeon had to admit that he didn’t look any type of menacing. It should have been easy, raising his arm and defend himself with help of the claws he was given—but it really wasn’t.

 

He couldn’t get past threats. Chanyeol was staring at him, wide eyed and speechless, while Junmyeon couldn’t bring himself to give the claws a bloody purpose, literally. They failed to do what they had been created for. He failed to do what he had been created for.

 

Jongin and Sehun were simply perfect. He wanted that; the peaceful life, the obvious but casual love. In the back of his mind he thought it wrong to want these things with Chanyeol. But why? Limbo was timeless, it’s possible that they have already spent years together—

 

He couldn’t do it. He didn't understand how, but he couldn't bring himself to disrupt the embodiment of peace, something he had sought.

 

Instead, Junmyeon tried to find a different way out of the dilemma.

 

The raft started to rock, raising Junmyeon’s pulse. “What’s the plan?” He heard Chanyeol say, but he focused too much on not letting his adrenaline take completely over. He didn’t want to glance at Jongin and Sehun again and fall in trance; he couldn’t let himself be so naive. He couldn’t allow that, not anymore.

 

Junmyeon spotted a bridge in the distance, gradually becoming bigger the closer they got. The raft was rocking wildly, making it difficult to hold on without falling overboard—How did Jongin and Sehun stay so calm?—but Junmyeon rammed his claws into the wood once more for stability.

 

He tensed his muscles in order to support his claws holding his weight, not that it was necessary. Once his claws were inside, there was nothing that could move them. Junmyeon nodded, gesturing for Chanyeol to hold onto him. His friend hugged his back, fisting his shirt and Junmyeon felt Chanyeol trembling against his back. He recalled the look on Chanyeol’s face when he practically jumped him for support; Chanyeol was scared.

Chanyeol depended on him.

 

The bridge was their ticket out of there, Junmyeon figured. Jongin and Sehun still hadn’t made any move to stop them, and it didn’t look like they would. The bridge was getting closer and Junmyeon’s only focus as of now was to avoid any eye contact with them—but the sun was still warm and his eyelids still heavy and the temptation to look was great, all he had to do was look, look at them, but he couldn’t. He also wanted to curl up and sleep but he couldn’t.

 

“Here’s the plan,” Junmyeon called, hoping for Chanyeol to hear properly over the sloshing of the water and breaking of the makeshift waves against the raft. He didn’t try to be discreet; he was a hundred percent sure Jongin and Sehun wouldn’t move. They were too busy staring at each other, loving each other—

 

“Yes?” he heard Chanyeol say. Right.

 

“The bridge, we’re going to jump and climb,” Junmyeon instructed, estimating the distance left until the right moment to jump.

 

“How is that supposed to work?” Chanyeol called back, and Junmyeon clenched his teeth. Chanyeol didn’t have claws. He could shape-shift into Junmyeon again, but it didn’t feel like the right choice . . . he was going to get him up there himself.

 

Junmyeon flexed and readied all of his muscles for the jump. He needed to make use of the momentum the waves gave him, then make sure Chanyeol made it up there safely as well. “You wait. I’ll jump, and then I’m going to get you up there.”

 

Chanyeol responded, but Junmyeon wasn’t listening. He was building up courage that he would have never lacked before. The bridge was coming closer and closer now, and soon he could jump. Soon he would jump.

 

As the bridge became more defined, so did certain details around it. For example the individual bricks. The mortar between them. The girl standing on the bridge, bowed over it with wide eyes.

 

She startled him.

 

She was mouthing things, hands extended as if she offered her help. Junmyeon was seconds away from jumping now, and she distracted him too much.

 

Junmyeon hoped that he hadn't waited too long. He jumped, soaring through the sky, and with a deafening sound of his adamantium claws piercing through the stone, Junmyeon stabilized himself.

  
  


The girl bent over the edge and reached out for Junmyeon, who was holding onto the bridge through his claws. It would have taken some more strength to actually climb over the edge and find stability on it, but he decided to give in and take the girl's hand.

 

Her grip was strong, and Junmyeon bounced off the bridge as he was pulled up by her.

 

"Thank you," he muttered when he was safe and sound on top. He bowed over just like she did to offer the same help to Chanyeol, who was already too close and almost disappeared under the bridge. If that were to happen, they would still have a second chance, which was the other side of the bridge—but as it was against the flow, it would be certainly harder for Chanyeol to jump off. Junmyeon needed to help him now.

 

The girl turned around to face Junmyeon. She pointed at Chanyeol, then turned her hand and pointed in the opposite direction with her thumb.

 

"Wait, that's my friend, we need to help him." Junmyeon extended his hand and Chanyeol was able to grab it without any particular effort. What did take effort, though, was somehow dragging Chanyeol onto the bridge.

The girl grabbed Chanyeol's other hand, and together they pulled Chanyeol up. It was difficult, but after a moment of struggle and Chanyeol pushing off on the side, he was finally climbing over the edge to join them.

 

Junmyeon glanced down, only to see that Jongin and Sehun had disappeared along the raft below the bridge.

 

The girl ran a hand through her shoulder-length blonde hair as she worriedly inspected Junmyeon and Chanyeol. She was young, certainly younger than them, and pretty on top of that.

 

"I'm a little dizzy, I might throw up any moment." Chanyeol's honesty was punctuated by a sour expression and holding of his belly. He sat down and breathed heavily for a moment to let his insides calm down after the turbulent ride.

 

The girl crouched next to him and leaned in in front of his face. She inspected Chanyeol's eyes, then got back up.

 

She gave Junmyeon a reassuring nod and a thumbs up when she was sure Chanyeol would be better soon.

 

He returned it and introduced himself and Chanyeol. "We have no idea for how long we've been travelling. It feels like it's only been a few hours, but it can't have been."

 

"Don't forget that we were . . . poisoned. Who knows how long we've been under the influence, Jun." Chanyeol whined and slowly got up again. He closed his eyes. They hadn't been poisoned, but Chanyeol didn't tell her what really happened on purpose. Junmyeon went along with it.

 

"Will you be alright?" Junmyeon stepped forward.

 

It was reasonable to believe that his healing factor _had_ done its job now, after not setting in when he demonstrated his claws back in Dream City, but Junmyeon remained silent about it. If the girl had been able to determine the circumstances without them mentioning them solely by looking at Chanyeol, then she probably also knew what Junmyeon's extravagant immune system bore. Unlike Chanyeol, Junmyeon didn't feel dizzy at all. He didn't feel any of the effects the whistle had had on them. Now that he was awake, it felt as though nothing of that had ever happened. But Chanyeol was still suffering the consequences, and Junmyeon wished his healing factor would set out for a brief moment so that he could feel with his friend. He didn't want Chanyeol to be the only one who suffered.

 

Junmyeon heard an even clacking sound, approaching them on the bridge.

 

Behind her, two other girls walked the stone bridge to join them. One of the girls was naturally tall and wore heels on top of that; the source of the clacking sounds. The other girl went unnoticed at first, for her plain sneakers didn't make an audible sound on the stone. The girl turned around, and her face had lit up once she faced Junmyeon again.

 

She pointed at each one of the girls as she smiled. The tallest of the three wore a red, sequined dress matching her red heels. The second one was dressed more casually; her red sweater was bright against her black pants. And even the girl that had helped them get off the raft fit the colour scheme—black shirt, black pants with red stripes along the sides, and blood red makeup.

 

Junmyeon recalled the letter that was supposedly still in his pocket. He understood now that Limbo worked in time intervals, and with each one of them, a certain group of people came, along with a concept. First the children of Dream, then Jongin and Sehun, and the next stop was: the girls. If what the writer had delineated was true, then Junmyeon needed to be wary and observant. How many more stops would there be?

 

So far, they popped up at the most convenient times, aiming to help. Junmyeon glanced at Chanyeol, contemplating whether to resume the journey with only Chanyeol and reject the girls’ “help”. It was hard to figure it out, because he felt like he couldn’t inform Chanyeol about the letter and his recently adopted mindset towards the happenings.

 

His best bet was to turn back into how he was like, fresh out of the laboratories.

 

The girls started walking back, and Junmyeon took a few hasty steps after them. "Wait, where are we going?" He had asked questions too late before, and now it was time to be sure of what he was in for before anything happened. Although it might have been difficult, he needed to set up his own rules now so that he could keep himself and Chanyeol in check. Chanyeol was still out of himself, and looked crushingly ill, even though the girl had expressed that he would be better soon. He couldn't accept another obstacle to overcome when his friend was still hurting. "Chanyeol, come lean on me. You'll be fine."

 

The girls turned around and the shortest one, the one with the short blonde hair and the cute cheeks who had helped them get on the bridge, leveled a finger with her mouth and tapped it. She shook her head, like the other two girls.

 

They didn't speak because they couldn't. And here Junmyeon was, willing to discover what was in for them before they approached it, and suddenly it was out of his reach. But he wasn't stupid. He realized that Limbo worked against him in a pace and mood that would either make him feel good or out of place. It frustrated him that any attempt he made to figure out the situation and place was brushed aside by a simple detail, keeping him in the dark. He used to know everything he needed to succeed, but now he knew nothing. He still knew nothing. Their stay could have went on for years now, and Junmyeon didn't know anything about it.

 

So there were two options, now. They either followed the girls and found out what _their_ purpose in Limbo was, or they walked the opposite direction of the bridge and continued walking along the river by themselves. _It shouldn't be too difficult_ , Junmyeon thought while wrapping an arm around Chanyeol's waist and steadying him. _The writer told us that we'd just have to follow the river. We'll reach the destination without them._ He looked back at the girls, who were now wading through the high grass. _Where's his opinion when I actually need it?_

 

"My head feels like jelly," Chanyeol whined and gripped his own hair. Junmyeon felt bad for him, so he would need to take care of Chanyeol until he felt better.

 

He grit his teeth, thinking hard. The girls could offer shelter while Chanyeol rested. There was no way to tell if they'd find a calm spot on their own. In fact, there was no way to tell just what was waiting on the other side, while they'd perhaps be safer with the girls. Junmyeon was trained enough, and in theory he could use that training to their benefit. Well, he thought, but he couldn't help but worry that Limbo might have something in store for them to invalidate his power again. . Then again, playing after Limbo's rules was also . . . safe.

 

"What do you think, Chanyeol?" He whispered to his friend, even though the girls were too far to possibly be able to hear. "Should we go with them, or continue by ourselves?" He knew his own tendency after considering the possibilities, even though he didn't really like it. They would make themselves vulnerable and dependent again, but it posed the only sensible choice. Still, he needed to hear what his friend thought. He couldn't make a decision for the two of them against Chanyeol's will.

 

Chanyeol took his time with a reply, but eventually said, "Let's go."

 

He didn't look back, or hesitated, he just stared at the girls in the distance and Junmyeon now knew that yes, maybe there was no better choice than that.

 

As they worked on catching up on the girls, as if they had sensed it, the girls turned around and waited for them to close in. Junmyeon, concentrated on keeping Chanyeol steady without hurting him, missed a note that was placed where Chanyeol had sat.

 

_Good_

 

And what they also had failed to notice was that when Sehun and Jongin had disappeared under the bridge on their raft, they hadn't shown up again on the other side.

 

 

 

They wadded through knee-length grass that was turning slightly dry and yellow. The sun above them started to fall, disappearing bit by bit behind props that were unclear. The girls were only a few centimeters ahead of them, and Junmyeon and Chanyeol stuck to their heels. Junmyeon forced himself to keep his guard up, so that the . . . events from earlier couldn't be repeated.

 

Chanyeol suffered through the walk. He was injured, and Junmyeon just wished he could share his healing system with him. He was yet to learn if Chanyeol could turn into "inanimate" objects, and also something that would help him recover. He could, technically, turn into Junmyeon like he already had before. But Junmyeon wasn't sure if he wanted him to do that, not that he could stop him if he did. Even so, if it were any good, and there were other possibilities, Chanyeol would probably have already tried it.

 

Junmyeon's gaze was fixated on the girls' backs, and he wished he knew what was waiting. He desperately clung to his determination, something that had helped him in the past. He wasn't sure if he was now rediscovering or reinventing himself, but he was definitely clearer headed. He hoped to act right when the situation called for it.

 

Except for the sound of the dry grass breaking and Chanyeol's panting, Junmyeon couldn't really make out anything else. It took a while until they got somewhere, and in the meantime, the sun just kept falling and falling until it was almost gone. Emeralds and rubies glistened in the remaining light, hidden by batches of grass or laid out in the open. They were beautiful, but their prominent sharp edges looked dangerous. The girls completely ignored the jewels, and so did Junmyeon and Chanyeol after that.

 

The lack of time orientation was now starting to get to Junmyeon. He had wondered before, but now he knew that there was absolutely no telling of how time passed in Limbo, and how quick or slow they were advancing. It was burdening, almost.

 

A house. A cozy house at the border of the forest, and they were heading right towards it. The next stop. Whatever waited beyond the doors.

 

The girls stopped and motioned for Junmyeon and Chanyeol to go ahead, they'll be right by their side. Junmyeon was assured of that when the very first girl they had encountered placed a hand on the small of his back and gently pushed him forward as they walked. No attempts were made to try and help Chanyeol, but inside, things might look different.

 

He limped the few stairs up to the front porch, slowly with Chanyeol's dragging at his shoulder. The light went on once he'd stepped on the porch, and not only the light next to the window, but also those inside. They illuminated a cozy living room with velvet cushions, couches and armchairs. One of the girls walked around them to open the unlocked door, and invited them inside with a friendly smile.

 

They were greeted by a fireplace's warmth and a familiar odor of cookies and something else mingling with it. Limbo always played with his senses, but now Junmyeon paid more attention.

 

A red carpet led to the center of the room, which branched into multiple corridors and other rooms. The scent was coming from the left, so a kitchen was nearby.

 

The tallest of the girls carefully removed Chanyeol's arm from Junmyeon's shoulder and guided him to an armchair, where he settled himself down comfortably, and Junmyeon watched completely tensed up. Once Chanyeol had relaxed into the chair, so did Junmyeon. The girl's sequinted dress twinkled in the light and the clacking of her shoes was damped by the carpet as she walked past Junmyeon with a gentle smile.

 

Blending into the couch she was sitting on, another girl's pale skin caught his attention. Her dress was almost the same shade of red as the velvet couch, but the texture and material was different; her pale face and black hair stood out most, once Junmyeon had spotted her. Her eyes were sharp and observant, and her hands were folded neatly atop her crossed legs. She radiated authority, because a red diadem was placed on her head, carefully braided into her silky hair, and her gaze on Junmyeon was fierce and indifferent.

 

The blonde girl pushed an armchair around, so that it was now next to Chanyeol's, and gestured for Junmyeon to take a seat. His friend looked better now. Junmyeon examined his face and saw that Chanyeol's closed eyelids fluttered slightly.

 

There was much more noise now, the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and sounds coming from the kitchen. Junmyeon eyed the new girl on the couch, and she was tapping her foot on the wooden laminate in a calm beat, looking down at the ground with eyes leading nowhere as if she was buried deep in thought. The chandelier above them swung slowly, casting a moving shadow on the ground right next to the woman's feet.

 

A few moments later, and all the girls joined them in the living room, with one addition. This girl was clad similarly to the one on the couch, and she walked over to Junmyeon and extended her hand. “Joohyun."

 

Hesitant, Junmyeon grabbed her hand and found out that she had a firm, strong grip. "I'm Junmyeon, and this is my friend Chanyeol." She shook Chanyeol's hand as well, and Junmyeon saw that the colour was returning to his face.

 

She pointed at the lady on the couch. "This is Seulgi." The girls that were fidgeting around the entrance were named one by one. "And Seongwan, Yerim, Sooyoung."

 

Once her name was mentioned, the corresponding girl's face lit up and Seongwan even waved, as if they had just met.

 

"Say, what brings you here?" Joohyun asked, sitting down next to Seulgi on the couch while the other girls sat on the floor in front of them. It surprised Junmyeon for a moment, because the girls that had guided them here were unable to speak. Her voice was like velvet, like almost everything in this room, and it was soothing.

 

"I'm afraid to say that we don't know ourselves." Junmyeon finally replied, putting his hands into his lap. The tiaras on the women's heads twinkled in competition.

 

"I see," said Joohyun and leaned in. "Then you must have a lot of questions."

 

Junmyeon caught Chanyeol's glance. Yes, they did have a lot of questions. Too many to count, in fact. To find the first question to ask was almost impossible, and maybe he should have asked how the hospitality towards them was born.

 

"Who's behind this?"

 

The question hung in the room for a moment, until Seulgi spoke up. "You wouldn't know him."

 

"I didn't expect to. But if we're to meet him soon, then I should know what exactly I'm in for." Junmyeon held her steady gaze, and it wasn't uncomfortable for some reason. There was no tight air.

 

"He goes by None," Joohyun started, "and his real name is unknown to us. Not many do know it."

 

None. That was a start, for sure. They had a name, and the face would add to it when the time had come. Excitement was boiling up inside of Junmyeon, because after all these struggles and strange encounters, finally they were getting somewhere. It rose in the pit of his stomach and fell with his exhales, the mental strain long forgotten.

 

"And he created all of this?" Chanyeol asked, the strain in his voice only faint, now.

 

The girls on the floor nodded. "Exactly," Seulgi said. "It's . . . his vision. His world. It might not be perfect, but he spent a lot of time crafting it with his own thoughts."

 

His thoughts? Junmyeon squinted his eyes. Was he . . .?

 

"How did he do that?" Junmyeon toned his question down for the beginning. His suspicion was that another mutant was behind all this, but it was a wobbly thesis.

 

Seulgi stood in response. She crouched down to whisper something into the girls' ears, who then stood as well and disappeared into the different corridors. Seulgi returned to her seat and smiled. "We will explain when the girls are back with the books.”

 

Junmyeon started moving around in his seat. “How much . . . do you actually know?”

 

“A lot of things. We’ll do our best to answer your questions,” came Joohyun’s soft reply.

"So this None person . . . have you met him before? Or do you just know of him?" Chanyeol asked. He tapped his fingers on the armrest and fidgeted around.

 

A few seconds later and the girls returned. Yerim held a thin book, the size of a journal, while Seongwan and Sooyoung helped each other carry a book six-times that of Yerim's. Both were taped, the transparent tape holding the pages together. They were slowly falling apart.

 

Seulgi reached out to take the heavy book from them, while Joohyun took the thin book and flipped the cover open. There was a rattling sound, and Junmyeon discovered that Seulgi's book was kept shut with a heavy lock.

 

Alarm bells rung in Junmyeon's head when Joohyun murmured a few lines from the book. He recalled the occurrences from before, when Jongin had wanted to tell them a story which ended horribly. He couldn't let it be repeated, especially since it was going to be way harder on Chanyeol in the aftermath again. He recovered, but maybe this time Chanyeol wouldn't rest well.

 

"Would it be possible to hear the story at a later point? Chanyeol and I are seriously tired." Junmyeon wasn't tired. He needed to think of a plan for if things turned for the worse, even though the women appeared kind. Jongin and Sehun had too, and at this point it was difficult for Junmyeon to trust blindly again.

 

There was a huge contrast between the people they had encountered so far. While the children of Dream had nothing but good intentions and took care of them, when it should have been the other way around, Jongin and Sehun had abused their atmosphere to turn their stay into a nightmare. Junmyeon had blindly trusted the children, which turned out to be fine, but after that there wasn't anymore trust left. If Limbo wasn't such a complex place, if it just were a place with rules and culture, they could adapt at their own pace, on their own. But Limbo made it impossible.

 

Joohyun closed her book again, and smiled at them. "If that is what you prefer, then sure." She rose and gave Seulgi her book before coming over to Chanyeol and put her hand to his forehead. Chanyeol flinched, but relaxed into her touch. Meanwhile Junmyeon tensed up and leaned back into the armchair to hide it.

 

"How are you doing?" She asked, brushing a strand of hair out of Chanyeol's face and adjusting her hand. Chanyeol's bright pink hair slowly turned black again, like he had when Junmyeon first met him, as if his body was sighing. His clothes turned plain black, too.

 

"I don't know," Chanyeol responded. "I feel like it's getting better, but I'm worried." He searched for Junmyeon through the corner of his eye, and his friend was right there. "Jun and I have been through . . ." Chanyeol didn't finish the sentence, and he didn't need to.

 

Joohyun sat on the free armrest and folded her hands in her lap. "If you don't have anymore questions for now, I suggest you can let Yerim and Seongwan guide you upstairs while Sooyoung prepares something for you to eat. Once you've rested, we will resume our conversation. Things will look different tomorrow. How does that sound?"

 

It sounded lovely. It sounded good. Junmyeon hated it, and the churn of his stomach proved that. He didn't want to accept the offer, but there was no other choice if they were already here. They'd already allowed the girls to bring them here, they're in their house, nothing more could happen. A lot of things could happen. But if Junmyeon kept his eyes open, he wouldn't be surprised.

 

Chanyeol was quicker to reply. "I think that's what we need, right Jun?"

 

"Yes." His lips were pressed together tightly and his response was nearly choked. It was sincere, though, even though he didn't like it.

 

Junmyeon followed Joohyun's motions carefully, while keeping an eye on the other women. She helped Chanyeol get up by pulling him to his feet and resting a hand on the small of his back to steady him. He seemed dizzy for a brief moment, before his lips formed an awkward smile. Junmyeon got up right after.

 

He inspected the chandelier above them, rubies and emeralds gracing the different arms. He felt Sooyoung's stare on him, but when he glanced at her he found that she'd followed his gaze and eyed the decoration as well.

 

Yerim stepped to his side and shyly wrapped her slender fingers around his wrist. It startled Junmyeon, but he didn't allow her to notice. Instead, he remained wary and careful. When Yerim tugged slightly at his arm to make him follow her, he obeyed for the sake of his suspicion going unnoticed. Seongwan was right behind them, with Chanyeol in tow, and together they marched toward the gigantic wooden stairs that led up into the second floor.

 

On the couch, Seulgi had her fingers wrapped around the thick book cover, white knuckles going even lighter.

 

...

 

The second floor was large. Junmyeon would have thought the downstairs corridors to lead to individual rooms, but the second floor was so large and twisted that it seemed the house was bigger on the inside than expected from it's outdoor appearance. It was dark, but a few lamps lit the corridors poorly and provided just enough light for them to walk comfortably.

 

Although Seongwan and Yerim didn't communicate, they were both sure which rooms the two would stay in. Yerim halted in front of a wooden door to open it, while Seongwan and Chanyeol walked past to find a room for the latter.

 

Heat shot into Junmyeon's face as Yerim tugged him around behind her, and he planted his feet down to forcefully stop her. She did, but Junmyeon wasn't looking at her when she turned around.

 

"Seo-Seongwan!" Junmyeon called out, and the girl stopped. Chanyeol's arm was wrapped around her shoulder. "I worry about Chanyeol. I think it's . . . I think it's best if we share a room so that I can take care of him if he needs anything."

 

Seongwan looked at Yerim—Junmyeon followed her gaze—and Yerim shrugged. She walked past him, back out of the room, and this time she held onto a tiny piece of Junmyeon's shirt that she had grabbed in motion. She opened the door to a room across the one they had first entered, and Junmyeon found two beds and a couch inside, making the room look cozy.

 

Seongwan brought Chanyeol inside, too, and helped him settle on one of the beds even though he insisted that he was fine from now on. She smiled and bowed slightly, then stepped to Yerim's side. Yerim smoothed out the wrinkles in the bedding and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. Seongwan and her were almost through the door when Yerim stopped to look at them quizzically, as if to ask: _Do you need anything else?_

 

"Thank you," Junmyeon forced himself to say. "We're fine."

 

With that, Yerim beamed at them one last time before closing the door and leaving the two alone.

 

Junmyeon dropped down on his bed with a sigh. "Chanyeol, seriously, how are you doing?"

 

"I tried to . . . I tried to collect my thoughts but—" Chanyeol stammered, and shivered slightly. "I don't want to think about what happened."

 

"You shouldn't. Though, know that you can talk to me." Junmyeon inspected the cozy room and fisted the blanket he was sat on. "I don't want you to push the memories away, even if they're awful." He tried his best to sound reassuring.

 

"Awful is really an understatement," Chanyeol chuckled nervously. "I'm not pushing the memories away, I rather feel like I'll never be able to get over it, Jun." He coughed, his body shaking hard, and ran his hand over is face. It was obvious the fatigue was crashing into him at once, now that he was given the opportunity to rest.

 

"I don't expect you to get over it," Junmyeon walked over to the wardrobe and picked out clothes. _Why do the girls have clothes that would fit Chanyeol?_ Junmyeon asked himself, but blamed it on the way Limbo worked. As if it was created just for and revolving around them.

 

He gave Chanyeol the comfortable black clothes. "For now though, I think it's best to play along so that you can rest. You're still wet, so change into this."

 

Chanyeol took the clothes from him with a grateful nod and stood to go to the large bathroom linked with the bedroom. The door leading to it was wide ajar, revealing polished white tiles and red shower curtains. Where Chanyeol had sat was now a dark stain on the duvet.

 

Once Chanyeol was done and Junmyeon had used the bathroom himself, they fell back into the conversation. Chanyeol was so easy to talk to. About anything ever, Chanyeol would find something interesting to add, innocently giving his opinion at times. But now . . . now Chanyeol didn't say such things anymore. He was way more serious, despite the occasional "Jun" he would sneak into a sentence. Junmyeon didn't know whether it was fatigue or something else that tugged at the corners of Chanyeol's mouth and made him look trist.

 

There was nothing to blame him for, because while Junmyeon didn't feel the aftermath of what Jongin and Sehun had done, he still related to Chanyeol's hurting in a different way. He was glad they now had the chance to talk freely, talk about how they feel and what their next step should be.

 

"It was insane," Chanyeol said and buried his face in his hands. "Why did Jongin do that?"

 

It dawned on Junmyeon that Chanyeol wouldn't know. Chanyeol didn't know that he had heard the whistle countless of times and that he knew what it meant. But he deserved to know.

 

Junmyeon backed into the wall, pulling his knees to him. It was a habit, he had always sat like that on the cold, white floor of the—

 

"The whistle is a training tool," He said, weighing every word in his mouth. "I experienced it more often than I could possibly count."

 

"You—what?" Chanyeol's eyes grew larger, and he leaned forward in surprise.

 

Junmyeon wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin on top of them. "Whenever it was time to train, with my Sensei, or I, you know . . ."

 

Chanyeol listened carefully, still wide eyed.

 

". . . had to do something for them, they would use it to control me. My powers went crazy everytime, and they did again, today." It was hard to think back to it, but Chanyeol deserved to know. Chanyeol fell victim to it, when it was clearly only a tool used against Junmyeon.

 

"Was it different?"

 

Junmyeon frowned. "What do you mean?"

 

"The whistle, was that different? You're usually used to the feeling of your claws, but since they're different now . . . did the whistle feel different, too?" Chanyeol's genuine curiosity threw Junmyeon for a loop. He sounded different than usually, he had noticed before, but now Chanyeol looked like someone else, without using his powers.

 

"It was different, yes. It's not something you can get used to, like the claws. I feel like . . ."

 

Chanyeol was still listening.

 

"Here, when Jongin used it," Junmyeon wanted to make himself small, "it was almost amplified. When I experienced it before, it was painful, but never like this. Like you said. 'Insane'."

 

Junmyeon held Chanyeol's gaze, until Chanyeol softened and a dimple appeared in his cheek when he pressed his lips together. He was thinking, and Junmyeon was, too; what had happened to Chanyeol when the whistling began?

 

"But I thought the whistle was created just for me," Junmyeon continued, turning his thoughts into words to share with Chanyeol. "So, if you don't mind . . . what happened when you heard it?"

 

"Jun." Chanyeol grabbed the pillow next to him and hugged it to his chest. His drying hair fell into his face, and his brown eyes gave off a different vibe than usual. The short sleeves of the shirt revealed Chanyeol's toned arms, and suddenly Chanyeol didn't look like a tiny giant anymore. He looked ordinary, and exhausted. "I just felt this— this pain pierce right through my chest. It burned, Jun. Not like fire, but like frost."

 

Not like fire, but like frost.

 

"And it just didn't stop. I couldn't breathe. There was, there was nothing, you know?" His facial expression changed from worried to desperate. "There was nothing doing this to me, just the. The sound of the whistle wrecking my ears and something invisible turning me inside out."

 

He dropped the pillow into his lap and rested his elbows on it, covering his ears as if the sound was still audible somewhere in the distance.

 

Junmyeon's throat was dry. He felt sorry for Chanyeol, and guilty for dragging him into it. It could have been different for Chanyeol if they had gone different ways just after they had run into each other. Chanyeol could be fine.

 

He contemplated apologizing for it when there was a faint knock on the door, and a second after, Yerim stepped into the room with a silver tray in her hands. She came alone.

 

"Hello, Yerim," Chanyeol sighed. Yerim nodded in response and walked to Junmyeon first. She handed him a plate and a glass of water, and then did the same when she got to Chanyeol. When she was done and the tray was empty, she held it to her chest and expectantly watched the two men.

 

Junmyeon didn't know whether he should eat it now or not, but Chanyeol wasn't bothered. He dug right in, and Junmyeon almost hissed at how naive it was. But he was still being obvious, it seemed, because while Chanyeol remained unbothered, Yerim had noticed and walked to the nightstand.

 

She was right next to Junmyeon's legs when she crouched down to open the drawer and take out a notebook. She reached further into it to find a pen, and with a smooth movement, Yerim sat while turning on her heels.

 

She scribbled something onto the paper, and now even Chanyeol had stopped eating to watch what she was doing. When she was done, she held it up for Junmyeon to read.

 

_I made sure that it's okay_

 

Yerim noticed that Chanyeol was awkwardly shifting around to see what she had written, so she briefly turned the notebook so he could read it too. Then she gave Junmyeon the notebook and the pen, and her face lit up.

 

He took them, but Junmyeon was lost. She understood what he said when he spoke, so why would he have to write .. something .. back?

 

Then he had an idea.

 

"Why?" He scribbled onto the paper. It was like a tiny trap he had thought of on the spot. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

 

Yerim maintained her smile when he cautiously handed her the notebook again, and she couldn’t stop smiling as she read his messy handwriting. She looked back up at him, her nose scrunching up before she scribbled something back. Chanyeol almost wrenched his shoulder trying to see what they were doing.

 

_Smart. Sometimes, you just need to be careful._

 

Junmyeon stared at her words for a moment, Yerim already standing to leave. She patted his head, waved at Chanyeol and left the room to Junmyeon and Chanyeol’s thoughts.

 

“What did she write?” Chanyeol asked. Junmyeon held up the notebook so Chanyeol could see, and after a moment his brows furrowed.

 

Junmyeon put it aside and returned to wondering about the food. “Why would she doubt her sisters?”

 

“She’s different,” Chanyeol said that as if he knew it for a fact, no speculation. All Junmyeon could do was stare at him.

 

Chanyeol was already done with his food, and placed the plate on the nightstand. He got under the duvet and blankets, curling up into a ball facing Junmyeon.

 

Junmyeon's hesitation was brushed away now, because Yerim radiated something different. She was cautious, even around her sisters. She did what would benefit Junmyeon and Chanyeol . . . Junmyeon ate, all worries that they might have poisoned the food gone. He trusted again. Perhaps, that decision was lethal.

 

He ate in silence, and when he was done, Chanyeol had his eyes shut and his face had softened. He didn’t know whether Chanyeol was still up to talk about the events and lift some weight off his shoulders, so he convinced himself that it wasn’t needed right now. He put the plate away, turned off the light, and hoped to see another day.

 

...

 

Junmyeon woke, distressed. His sleep had been uneasy, and sweat broke out on his chest and ran down his nose. He tried to grasp the last remains of the dream he had, trying to put together what exactly had caused him this much discomfort, but he couldn’t remember it. It was something about Chanyeol and him, but what exactly had broken his peaceful sleep was gone.

 

He slipped out of bed, opting for a short walk around the floor before he would try and rest again. Junmyeon stopped at the window, the sky still as dark as he had left it before he went to sleep. His eyes then lay upon Chanyeol, heavy breaths the only thing that provided background noise in this silence.

 

Junmyeon creeped out of the room, and his naked feet were cold on the laminate. He walked the dark corridor silently, balancing his weight so that he would make no noise whatsoever. He stalked past a room, its door opened but a crack and a tiny bit of light falling onto the floor. Junmyeon tried to be extra careful, passing the door while holding his breath; he didn’t want to interrupt anybody’s night.

 

He kept walking aimlessly, the tense feeling in his neck subsiding, and the pearls of sweat were replaced by cool. Junmyeon’s breathing evened out again, and his head was clearer.

 

Junmyeon hadn’t expected to run into anyone, but when he headed back to his room, he found Yerim pacing in front of it.

 

Her blonde hair was tousled, and there were hints of dark bags under her eyes. The way her shoulders hung, dragging her facial features with them, hands between her knees . . . she didn’t look well, and her expression only brightened a little when she saw him.

 

“Can’t sleep well, either?” Junmyeon whispered, a sharp sound getting lost in the dark. Yerim shook her head in response, and lowered her gaze. It was stuck on the floor now, dipping her face into darker shadows. She wrapped the rim of her shirt around her finger, and twirled it absentmindedly.

 

Junmyeon didn’t know what was worrying or saddening her, but he felt the need to comfort her.

 

He wasn't good at this. At all. He wanted to cheer her up, but he'd never done anything like that before. His interaction and journey with Chanyeol had already pushed him out of his usual . . . comfort zone, you could say, and now he felt the need to make Yerim feel better, but didn't know how. It was an awkward feeling, and he found that in Limbo, he'd experienced lots of unknown feelings so far. All bad things aside, he discovered new sides to his being, but he didn't know whether that was for the better or worse.

 

Junmyeon walked back into the room, to the nightstand, and picked up Yerim's notebook and the pen she'd given him. The pen was coated in something plastic and silicone-like, and at the butt of it there was a tiny cat's head. He thought a few seconds before he scribbled something onto a new page, while walking back out of the room, then awkwardly held it down for her to see. Still staring at the floor with her head dropped, she flinched when the notebook suddenly appeared.

 

She sceptically looked up at Junmyeon before reading what he'd written, but he held it out and encouraged her to take it. Eventually she did, and when she read his words, a small smile played with her lips, as if she couldn't help but smile all the while trying to hide it.

 

Yerim scribbled something back, hair falling into her face. She gave Junmyeon the notebook with a much brighter expression.

 

_Do you want to show me the rest of the house, and do something together?_

 

_Sure!! There's lots for you to see!_

 

 

 

The first room Yerim showed Junmyeon was her room. Junmyeon had expected the house tour to be uncomfortable and tense, but Yerim was surprisingly relaxed and unsurprisingly sweet. He didn't know if his attempt to cheer her up worked, because it was quite simple and his first try at something of that sort. But Yerim did seem a little brighter now, even though he hadn't done much.

 

Her room was painted a light grey and there were a few comic books stacked or strayed around the room. _Legion_ , read one title. A few older looking comics read _Uncanny X-men_ , one of them with the subtitle _Chutes and Ladders_ and another read _The Day Reality Went Wild!_. There were a few of her drawings pinned to the wall, and Yerim took post-it notes and stuck them to the different drawings. She grabbed a pen and scribbled names on the notes, to show Junmyeon which characters she liked to draw. For that, she took one of the comics and gave it to Junmyeon.

 

They compared the characters together, and Yerim expressed with exaggerated gestures which of the characters she liked or disliked.

 

The drawings reading Belasco, Legion, and Prometheus, a few of her favourite characters, were all in one row. They were the most colourful drawings, bright and detailed. Yerim was good at it, and a little bit of herself was reflected in the drawings.

 

Yerim showed him her polaroid camera. She snapped a picture of him, startling Junmyeon with the sound, then waited for the film to come out and waved it around until Junmyeon appeared on it. She took tape and fixed the polaroid picture onto the wall, next to a photograph of her with a man. Junmyeon smiled shyly, unsure of what to say.

 

Yerim then wanted to show him her sisters' rooms. “Aren’t your sisters asleep?” Junmyeon asked her, stopping her from entering a room he had not been to yet. “I don’t want to wake them.”

 

Yerim shook her head, and pointed to the ground. _Downstairs_ , Junmyeon figured, and removed his hand from atop Yerim’s on the door handle.

 

She started with Seongwan’s room, and once the light was on, they stood in a bright place with a number of paintings gracing the walls. They were colourful, pretty against the whites of the walls. She had a gigantic bed, tidy though unmade. There was a vase filled with poppies on Seongwans desk, and Yerim took one poppy and handed it to Junmyeon. He accepted the flower and smiled awkwardly, watching Yerim head straight for one of the paintings.

 

The painting depicted poppies, the same colour of the one Junmyeon held. Yerim then waved Junmyeon to the window, right next to painting, and he leaned in to look through the slightly dusty grass.

 

Among the few types of flowers that blossomed in the backyard of the house, so did poppies. More rubies and emeralds twinkled in the grass, occasionally blinking when the little sun that remained in the sky happened to shine down right at them.

 

Yerim took Junmyeon's hand and guided him to Seongwan's bed. The white bedding was embroidered with red poppies, the sweet pattern covering the whole bed. Junmyeon twisted the flower in his hand, the fragile stalk giving in under the pressure and oozing a cool juice. Junmyeon wiped his fingers on his pants. Although Yerim looked better, a certain tug at the corners of her mouth showed him that she was still feeling down.

 

"If it wouldn't get us into trouble," Junmyeon started his suggestion and Yerim looked up from the notebook she was holding, "how about we go pick some more poppies for Seongwan? The flowers in the vase are slowly withering. Look at their petals, they're shrinking."

 

Yerim grabbed the vase and inspected the flowers. Junmyeon wasn't exactly wrong, but he wasn't right, either. The poppies were still in good enough condition, although picked, they maintained a healthy colour thus far. However, some petals had already fallen off, and the presumably older flowers' colours were fading.

 

The girl beamed and nodded, gesturing for Junmyeon to follow her. He was relieved that his attempt to cheer Yerim up at least a little bit had proven itself to be effective, and he hoped to come up with something else to keep it that way. Yerim led him through a maze of corridors and forks Junmyeon had not seen yet, and they jumped down the stairs to a back door, her plans of showing him the other room long forgotten.

 

They stormed outside, and Junmyeon was met with cold. The sun was still gone, but night in Limbo wasn’t pitch black; the sky was a soft dark blue, light enough to let them see where they were going. Junmyeon avoided stepping on the jewels that lay scattered around, hidden by the grass or completely out in the open. Yerim was so unbothered by the beauty of them, and already squatted to pick a few flowers for her sister. She tucked her hair behind her ears, preventing it from falling into her face.

 

Junmyeon kneeled next to her, smiling as he accepted the bunch of flowers Yerim gave him. He held the flowers for her while she picked them, tons of them, and here and there, Junmyeon would pick one too.

 

Yerim noticed that, and held out her hand for Junmyeon to give her one of them. He did as she wanted, and she then compared the stalks of the poppy Junmyeon had picked and the one she had picked. Junmyeon's stalk was way shorter, and Yerim shook her head as she held it up.

 

"You're right. It would fall into the vase later," Junmyeon realized, and she nodded. Yerim winked at him as she handed him his poppy, and with that seven more she had picked herself. Junmyeon was practically embracing the stock of flowers Yerim was giving him, while he carefully laid his three flowers next to each other on the ground. He put them into a triangle's formation, and then removed the stalks so the poppy blossoms could lay flat on the ground. Yerim glanced at them, then grinned widely.

 

“What is it?” Junmyeon asked, and Yerim pointed at one of the flowers, then at herself.

 

The next flower, then at Junmyeon.

 

The final flower, and then at the house. It took Junmyeon a moment to comprehend what she was implying. “You, me and Chanyeol?”

 

She nodded and her grin grew wider. Junmyeon chuckled. “If you say so. I like it.”

 

He turned a little, so he could accept the huge amount of flowers Yerim gave him more comfortably. "Are you sure Seongwan is going to need all of these? I was thinking of a small bouquet."

 

The girl grinned, mischief twinkling in her eyes and Junmyeon understood. Upon his suggestion, she had already come up with a small ploy, and Yerim was up to no good. He liked that face much better on Yerim, he preferred it over the unvoiced worry and sadness. He was worried as well, Chanyeol was ill and struggling inside. But they had done their best by putting him into Joohyun and Seulgi's hands, and Junmyeon didn't want to see Yerim sad.

 

He remembered Jaemin, who had acted similarly. Jaemin hadn't only bandaged Junmyeon's hands, but also his being. Junmyeon liked it.

 

"Yerim!"

 

Joohyun's shout was barely audible, a faint sound coming from within the isolating walls of the house. She jumped up, and Junmyeon slowly embraced the bizarre amount of poppies to have a better grip on them. He rose, too, when the next shout came.

 

"Please get some rubies from the garden!"

 

Yerim stopped in her step and turned, smiling down at Junmyeon.

 

"Good thing we're already here," Junmyeon smiled back. "Convenient. But, Yerim?"

 

She nudged a ruby with her foot and laid her head to the side, quizzically.

 

"I think it's better if you carry those. My hands are a little full."

 

Yerim's nose scrunched up and perfect white teeth were revealed, only visible due to the light attached at the back of the house. Their faces lay in shadows, the flowers darker than they would usually be. But Junmyeon was able to make out Yerim's face perfectly fine, and he was glad that she looked happy.

 

"My legs are numb," Junmyeon uttered and shook his legs, trying to get rid of the tingly feeling. A few flowers fell out of his king-sized bouquet, one of which got stuck in Yerim's hair. "Got it," Junmyeon said and bowed down carefully, nearing his hand to Yerim's head so that he could remove the flower. But Yerim reacted at the same time, and moved her head; Junmyeon accidentally poked her in the eye with his middle finger, and she instantly moved away to cover it with her own hands. The poppy fell off her head.

 

Junmyeon winced. "Ah, I'm so sorry for that. I didn't want to—"

 

But Yerim wasn't hurt. When she removed her hands from her eye, it _was_ red and puffy, but Yerim was laughing. Silently, but she was laughing; her eyes shut and she moved abruptly, covering her widely opened mouth with one head. Junmyeon wheezed and hid his face behind the bouquet.

 

Yerim rubbed her eye and rose to her feet again. She collected the rubies, simple like flowers, and put them on her shirt to carry. Yerim nodded at the house, a tear plopping out of her red eye and running down her cheek. Junmyeon apologized for hurting her again, and she just shook her head. _Nothing's wrong._

  
  
...

 

Back inside, Yerim gestured for him to head upstairs again, while she would be right back to join him, and show him the rest of the rooms.

 

He decided to go back into his room, to clean his now wet and dirty feet and put on his shoes. Every step on the way was slippery and uncomfortable, and Junmyeon was relieved to step onto the carpeted floor of the room. He also felt bad for dirtying it, but he told himself that he would take care of it first thing in the morning, so that he would not inconvenience the girls anymore.

 

Then he saw it.

 

Chanyeol was winding and coughing into his pillow, and Junmyeon quickly switched on the lights.

 

“Chanyeol, Chanyeol are you okay?” His friend was coughing and shaking in his sleep, the pressure didn’t wake him up. Junmyeon rubbed his shoulder and held him in place.

 

It took a while until his friend opened his eyes and gasped. Chanyeol sat up, too quickly, and held his head from dizziness. He suppressed the next coughing fit, which resulted in choking; Junmyeon wrapped his arms around his friend and felt the heat of his body. Chanyeol was usually so cold: Junmyeon recalled the times he held Chanyeol’s hand and how cold it was, but now he was on fire.

 

He held him like that until Chanyeol finally calmed down and his breath evened. Chanyeol grunted something incoherent before rubbing at his eyes.

 

“I feel terrible, Jun,” Chanyeol said and fell back into the bed, almost dragging Junmyeon down with him. He separated his arms from Chanyeol’s shoulders and sat next to him. Chanyeol’s face was flushed, and his eyelids were heavy. His cheeks puffed with occasional coughs he suppressed, and Junmyeon saw that his hair was _still_ wet, even though Chanyeol had dried it.

 

Chanyeol had rested yesterday, but he woke up worse.

 

"I'll get Yerim to help us," Junmyeon stated and left for the door.

 

Chanyeol coughed again. "Wait!"

 

Junmyeon did. "I don't think this is because of the whistle."

 

Chanyeol sounded strained as he propped himself up on his elbows, huffing and puffing.

 

He leaned against the door. Junmyeon rubbed his elbow and watched Chanyeol quizzically.

 

"Remember how the writer said we should stay away from the river?"

 

The memory crashed back into Junmyeon like the waves of the turbulent river against the raft the day before. While Junmyeon had somehow managed to stay dry, he'd woken up to Chanyeol holding and pulling himself up onto the raft, completely soaked. But it didn't seem like the low temperature of the water had given Chanyeol a mere cold.

 

"Oh crap." Junmyeon's chin fell to his chest and he groaned. Yes, he remembered.

 

"I think these are the consequences," Chanyeol said, and as if on queue, his words were followed by another coughing fit. "I feel terrible, Jun."

 

He recalled Joohyun's offer to answer every question that they had if she could. Junmyeon bit his lip as he thought of asking about the consequences of touching the river's water, and if Chanyeol's illness was—hopefully—all there was to it. Recovery was their priority now, but Junmyeon needed to find out how to achieve that.

 

"Lay back down," Junmyeon instructed, turning on his heel to leave. "I'll be back with some help." An unspoken 'I hope' lingered at the end of the sentence, but he didn't need to say it in order for Chanyeol to understand. He already knew.

  


He found the way back to the staircase easily, and at the bottom, a small table was covered with numerous little bowls. Yerim was sat on one of the three chairs around the table, crushing the rubies she had brought inside smoothly, as if they were more comparable to candy rather than actual stone. Looking up to him when she heard his steps on the squeaking wood, Yerim furrowed her brows when she saw that Junmyeon was back again.

 

Sooyoung was laying on the couch, a book with the title 'I Wish I Knew' in her hands, and she flicked through it at a speed that couldn't possibly allow her to read the content properly. Junmyeon joined Yerim at the table, and she patted the chair next to her. He declined her offer with a quick shake of his head, then spoke to her in a voice so low it bordered to a whisper. "Chanyeol isn't well."

 

Yerim's bright face fell to a worried expression. Her mouth formed an 'O', and she instantly rose from her seat. "Can I ask Joohyun some questions again, later?" Junmyeon asked her, and Yerim nodded assuringly.

 

She grabbed him again, more confident than yesterday, and Junmyeon thought her small hand fit perfectly into his larger one. Yerim tugged him back to the staircase, only stopping quickly to see if Sooyoung was watching them, but her sister wasn't paying attention at all. She was still mindlessly flicking through her book.

 

They went back upstairs, her work with the gems put off for a moment, and Yerim guided him back to their room like he hadn't just come from there.

 

Once inside, she hurried over to Chanyeol's side and kneeled down. She cupped Chanyeol's cheeks and tilted his head at various light angles to properly inspect his face. She then felt along his arm and rested two fingers on his artery. Chanyeol looked miserable.

 

"You saw it, Chanyeol fell into the river. Are these symptoms usual?" Junmyeon asked her, and Yerim was buried in thought before giving him a look that said 'I don't know'.

 

Communication was difficult, but Junmyeon had a good feeling about Yerim. She pointed at the door, and Junmyeon understood that he should leave again to find Joohyun and learn about the river.

 

He did what she wanted, and trusted Yerim alone with Chanyeol. That was the only way, after all.

 

Downstairs again, the preparated gems were still on the table, but Sooyoung was gone. Her book lay opened on the couch where she had been, and instead of the silence from earlier, chattering was heard from a room bordering onto the living room. Junmyeon crossed the room to follow the sounds, and entered the room over.

 

Joohyun was sat at a table reading with Seulgi, while Seongwan and Sooyoung fiddled around with empty glasses. Junmyeon cleared his throat to get their attention, and Joohyun put her book down to face and smile at him.

 

She was truly gorgeous, like the rest of the girls. The flow of her silky hair slightly curling it at the end caught his eye, shimmering in the light.

 

"Can I bother you for a moment?"

 

"No bother at all. Please, take a seat." Joohyun was attentive, and put her book aside. Seulgi, too, gave Junmyeon all her attention.

 

"Chanyeol is unwell," Junmyeon explained. "He can't stop coughing and his body is on fire. He thinks it's because he fell into the river—"

 

"He fell into the river?" Joohyun cut him off, wide eyed. Then she collected herself and swallowed. "Forgive me, please continue."

 

So Junmyeon did. "Yes, yesterday. He was already hurt, but then he fell off a raft and now he seems to feel that. I was hoping you could tell me about the consequences of it, and if this is normal and passing."

 

There was a brief pause of Joohyun thinking hard, until she placed her slender hands on the table and straightened the table cloth in thought. "Alas, I do know about the river. I can't promise that my information is sufficient."

 

"Anything that could help Chanyeol," Junmyeon almost begged. "Yerim is up there with him taking care of him."

 

Seulgi joined in, "That's good, then. We'll tell you what we know while Yerim makes sure he'll get better."

 

Junmyeon nodded in agreement and hoped their information could help him out. It was new, to have a source of information right next to him after being kept in the dark for so long. It felt good, but also terrifying, to some extent.

 

"You need to understand that it takes an incredible amount of willpower and strength to create a world," Joohyun proceeded. "And whatever you try, there's no way to create a world without a single flaw."

 

It sounded plausible. There was no such thing as a perfect world, Junmyeon experienced first hand, so why would Limbo be any different?

 

She continued, "It took None years to craft Limbo. You see, Limbo isn't it's actual name, but I'm using it for you to comprehend better. I will let you know in a moment."

 

"Years and years of isolation and hard work to create something that feels real, and here we are right inside of it. Like mentioned before, it's impossible to create a world without a bad side to it. So . . ."

 

So?

 

"So None tried to make it easy to _avoid_ the bad things." Joohyun lowered her voice slightly, and briefly glanced at Seulgi. "He channeled all the bad energy into the river, and in order to live a fulfilled life in Limbo, all you have to do is stay away from it. It does sound easy, right?"

 

Junmyeon didn't know what to reply, for a second. He understood why None's measure of choice was a river; it was indeed easy to avoid, and it was broad enough to hold however much bad energy existed in this world.

 

"I . . . I understand. So when Chanyeol fell into the river, the bad energy got to him?" Junmyeon asked, already aware of the answer yet he feared Joohyun's reply.

 

"Exactly, it must have happened. Were the waters turbulent?"

 

Junmyeon confirmed her question.

 

She shook her head in disbelief and sighed. "Then it fought to get to you, and succeeded. I'm afraid to say that I don't know what consequences this will bear for Chanyeol's well being, but please, don't lose hope."

 

Joohyun sounded so sincere and sad to be delivering these kind of news. Unaware of what Chanyeol would have to go through in the future, and if there was a way to stop him falling into a pit of despair or heal him completely. Junmyeon's stomach cramped up as he listened to her, and his mouth went completely dry.

 

"Where is None?"

 

Like yesterday, the question hung in the room surrounded by an uncomfortable silence. But Junmyeon didn't mind, because he needed the answers the women could provide.

 

"I don't know." Joohyun frowned, a hint of disappointment marking her mouth. "I wish I did."

 

Heat rushed into Junmyeon's face, a sign of desperation. "What are we gonna do now? What will happen to Chanyeol? I'm sick of not knowing." He put his head in his hands and propped his elbows onto the table.

 

He heard steps, and a few seconds later Yerim appeared in the doorframe. She held a white cloth in her hand, and when she rushed over she held it away from her body for the others to see.

 

It was stained with blood, and Yerim had tears sitting at the corners of her eyes, waiting for her to blink them away. Seulgi and Joohyun jumped to their feet, and Junmyeon joined them; they rushed past Yerim and to the ill man’s side.

 

 

Chanyeol was grey. The soft brown of his skin had faded into an ash grey colour and he was winding around in bed, shaking abnormally. His mouth was red with the blood he coughed, and some of it landed on Junmyeon's face when he sat next to him and held his hand.

 

"It gets worse by the second, he was just coughing when I went to get Yerim," Junmyeon grit his teeth. Chanyeol was just getting worse and worse.

 

Yerim dabbed at his mouth with the cloth and Chanyeol took it from her to cover it completely.

 

"I think you should go soon," Seulgi said. Junmyeon turned to look at her and rose his eyebrow.

 

"The sooner you find None, the better. He's the only one who can help Chanyeol." _If he will help Chanyeol._

 

Junmyeon exhaled sharply. "Is there nothing we can do here?"

 

"We can try and use medication, but I doubt it'll do much. It's best if we only take a little more time for you, Junmyeon, to rest as well before you go and resume your journey." Joohyun held her hand to Chanyeol's forehead like she'd done the night before, and her expression darkened. Seulgi was crouched next to her and, surprisingly, she held Chanyeol's hand. From the two of them, Seulgi had seemed to be the less empathetic one, but Junmyeon had only judged by her lack of words. Now that she saw Chanyeol in this state, worry was written all over her face and she stroked the back of Chanyeol's hand slowly with her thumb.

 

"Yerim, go get Seongwan and Sooyoung, we'll bring Chanyeol downstairs," Joohyun instructed, and Yerim nodded before she rushed out of the room to get her sisters.

 

Junmyeon eyed his friend nervously and Chanyeol's eyelids fluttered. "Get him some water, please," Seulgi asked and Junmyeon did as he was told. He grabbed his empty glass from yesterday and disappeared into the bathroom to fill it up.

 

He was only supposed to fill the glass with water, but Junmyeon took the opportunity to sort his thoughts. He closed the door and all the sounds were left beyond it. Junmyeon sighed when he stepped to the sink and the mirror.

 

There was so much to take care of. Chanyeol needed to be brought to None as soon as possible, and there was the challenge of not knowing what awaited neither along the way or at the end of the line. He'd be left to himself taking care of Chanyeol, making decisions for the two of them, getting them safe to where they needed to be. It was too much responsibility, but Junmyeon had to push through for Chanyeol's sake.

 

In the bathroom, everything was silent.

 

He turned on the faucet, and watched the water fill over the rim and along his hands absentmindedly. He finally turned off the tap and dried his hands on his shirt, looking into the mirror at the same time. For everything that had happened, Junmyeon didn't look like it had been real. He looked normal, rested, healthy. But he felt the complete opposite.

 

With a sigh and a heavy mind, Junmyeon returned to the room and handed Seulgi the glass of water. She held it to Chanyeol's now blood-free lips, put another hand to his chin so she'd catch the water he missed, and slowly helped him drink it.

 

Seongwan, Sooyoung and Yerim came into the room, and Seulgi wrapped an arm around Chanyeol to steady him as she slightly pushed to help him up. Junmyeon freed his legs of the blankets to let him swing his legs over the bed, and got up with wobbly knees.

 

"We'll take care of it from now on. Yerim, stay here with Junmyeon. We'll call you once Chanyeol has calmed down." With that, Joohyun turned her back on the two and for one split second Yerim looked like she was going to protest (as in: _I can help!_ ), but she let the matter drop and hid her balled fist behind her back. Junmyeon saw.

 

"I should be with him—" Junmyeon attempted to say, but Seulgi shot him a glance and her sharp eyes silenced him.

 

She said, "You will be with him. But not yet."

 

The four girls steadied the wobbly Chanyeol swaying from left to right, keeping him from falling to the ground and clutch his stomach. They led him out of the room, and they were gone.

 

Yerim ran right after them.

 

...

 

Time passed, with just Junmyeon by himself, until Yerim stormed into the room. He had turned off all light, to be left to himself. He had started expressing his worries with words he would only use in his mind, allowing each of the worries to scale themselves and stay if they were heavy enough.

 

"What is—" Junmyeon started, but Yerim put a finger to her lips and turned on the lamp on the nightstand, moving in front of it to shield it. Yerim grabbed the notebook she'd been using to communicate with him, and flipped it open.

 

_We have to go_

 

In his life, Junmyeon's heard a lot of bad news. Whenever an experiment failed, or a mission, or the new plans for him. Bad news included a lot of things for him, but they'd become standard after a while. Something he grew used to. Nevertheless, Yerim's handwriting on the paper caused such a panic within him, that he felt his claws awfully close to breaking through his skin. Yerim was right in front of him. If he let his claws do what they wanted, he would hurt her. So he swallowed the panic and ignored the boiling rage in the pit of his stomach as he slid off the bed.

 

Thoughts were racing through his head, but now wasn't the right time to ask questions. She was packing some things into a backpack now, but Junmyeon didn't really observe anything else. _We have to go,_  Yerim had told him. He was overwhelmed, but he had a grip on himself.

 

Lots of things happened in Limbo, and Junmyeon had let them. It was time to turn back into steel, and resist whatever force tried to move him. He examined Yerim's concentrated frown, all ready to leave her home. She wanted to help him with Chanyeol, and he was grateful for that. Yes, it was time to turn back into steel, because otherwise there'd be no success.

 

She flipped the paper again. Yerim had prepared everything she wanted Junmyeon to know in advance, so it wouldn't cost them more time. Junmyeon appreciated her thoughtfulness.

 

_Ignore what you observe, it was Chanyeol, but it doesn't have any meaning if you ignore it_

 

Yerim had scribbled over 'If you ignore it' multiple times, to highlight its importance and turn it into bold writing. She'd also underlined it, and Junmyeon understood.

 

"Do we need my—?" Junmyeon's voice was low as he held a hand up and tapped his knuckles. Yerim's response was a simple nod of the head, but then she mouthed something. _Not yet._

 

Junmyeon threw on the black jacket she'd given him, and left behind the clothes he had come with. He looked around the room as if there was something for him to pack, then straightened his back attentively.

 

Yerim walked over and grabbed his hand, not interlocking their fingers this time, but holding onto his wrist as if her life depended on it. _Maybe it does_ , Junmyeon thought. But he brushed the thought aside and focused on what was happening.

 

He followed Yerim out of the room, and even though their pace was quick, they made sure to be quiet at the same time. Junmyeon had learned how to move without making any sounds, even on terrain covered in sticks, leaves and anything that would crunch or break under a mere touch. Yerim on the other hand, definitely struggled more. Tip-toeing was no problem, but she had difficulties keeping it up while jogging.

 

Junmyeon now knew first-hand what Yerim had warned him of. There was a strong stench in the air, pulling through the cold corridors like a fog. Junmyeon tried to not let it bother him, but the horrible odor was so thick and also familiar and it burned in his nose, making tears well up in his eyes. He blinked them away.

 

Additionally, the wallpaper came peeling off in fat stripes, and there were cracks in the floor. _Chanyeol did this?_

 

For a second, Junmyeon feared the shrill sound of the whistle he dreaded would fill the silence any moment. _No,_ he told himself. _We can do this._

 

Yerim headed towards the all too familiar staircase that Junmyeon had walked up and down multiple times already. It linked the common room with the rest of the entire house, and it seemed as if it was the core of the house. The core of the house, and the core of everything.

 

They sprinted down the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and by now they were definitely making noise. Junmyeon tried to keep the odor from distracting him but it didn't work, and so Junmyeon searched every last bit of his memory to recall just where he had this smelled his before, what it smelled like, and why. Nothing came to mind.

 

Sooyoung was sat on the floor. Her clothes were ripped, and the white wall around her was stained red just like the polished wooden floor allowed puddles of blood to turn into one, great river of blood, flowing over the once neat floor smoothly. She was pinned to the wall by a dagger, and the messy sight did not surprise or scare Junmyeon. He had caused similar things himself, and there was way more blood on his hands than the little, personal river of bad things in this room held.

 

Except, he wondered how it happened. And if Chanyeol was responsible. Yerim had said this was Chanyeol, but he had to ignore it. Perhaps it wasn't real. Or it wasn't Chanyeol's fault at all.

 

He couldn't imagine weak, ill Chanyeol stabbing Sooyoung with such might that she remained stuck at the wall. Even so, there was no reason for him to commit such an . . . inhumane action, Junmyeon thought. It was funny, for he was no better. He was just like that. If Chanyeol did that, he was still worse. Junmyeon was worse.

 

Junmyeon was worse than anyone. Junmyeon was horrible. Junmyeon deserved to end up like Sooyoung.

 

 _What am I thinking_ , Junmyeon breathed in sharply. Yerim's head shot in his direction upon hearing the sound, but she turned her attention back to Chanyeol who was still on the couch, peacefully sleeping for a change.

 

Junmyeon looked at his hands, the backpack sliding down his shoulder and hanging from the crook of his elbow. There was no blood on his fingers, but he imagined it. He didn't imagine it, he recalled a memory. Because it had happened. Countless times.

 

Sooyoung reminded him of someone. A thought flared in his brain, and there it was: Junmyeon towering over the terrified Minister, not batting an eye as he rammed his toe claw into his abdomen, ending things once and for all. The dagger that had done the job for Sooyoung had strong similarities with Junmyeon's toe claw.

 

The blood licked at Junmyeon's thin shoes. He felt dizzy, multiple memories of people he had killed crashing in on him. _I didn't want that_ , Junmyeon told himself, but there was no brushing aside the guilt now. It was unstoppable.

 

Guilt. Dread. Fear. Regret. It violently shook up Junmyeon's being and set him down on a pile of burning wood. Thinking of what he had done, perhaps the reason why Limbo was torturing him and why he was here in the first place, it made his soul glitch. For a brief moment, Junmyeon was ripped out of his body, and he pondered the situation from an external perspective.

 

_How could you let them have their way with you_

_You could fight_

_You fought, but the wrong people_

_Now you're here because of it_

_Now he's here because of it_

_You dragged None into this_

 

Yerim pressed her hand against Junmyeon's chest and pushed hard to wake him from his trance while she dealt with Chanyeol. He stumbled backwards and almost fell over Seongwan's leg. Feeling his foot dig into the soft flesh of her calves, Junmyeon spun around to face his next victim.

 

Seongwan's calves were separated from her body. Next to them, an arm lay. Her torso was twisted in an abnormal way, making her head rest at a ghastly angle, on her forehead. Her clothes were ripped, and two blood-spitting slits dragged across her abdomen.

 

He remembered who had to suffer a similar fate, now. He had forgotten them, until he saw Sooyoung and Seongwan. What kind of human was he, to forget the people he forced to suffer, or to make them in the first place?

 

Junmyeon was close to hyperventilating, his claws burning a hundred degrees under his skin. He told himself to calm down, and help Yerim. Yerim indeed needed his help, because she was trying to hook her arms around Chanyeol's chest so that she could lift him up.

 

Not only his claws felt hot inside his skin, but his entire body did. Blood shot into his head at the sight of what he had caused, and his knees threatened to give away with every step he took back towards Yerim.

 

The stench was almost blowing into his face now, provoking him, not letting go. Junmyeon understood. There was nothing to forgive him, and he deserved to die, like Sooyoung and Seongwan.

 

His brain was cloudy. He wasn't able to think straight. It had happened before, in the paradise part of Limbo, but this was completely different. Junmyeon was an animal and if he was to be slaughtered, then so be it.

 

Yerim urged him to help her. He tried his best to hold Chanyeol steadily—his ill friend finally waking up now—but the blood and the thoughts and especially the memories kept Junmyeon from behaving appropriately. Yerim rushed him. Junmyeon delayed. Yerim tightened his grip around Chanyeol's chest. Junmyeon let loose. There were so many things pulling his strings, and Junmyeon was unable to tell which one to follow.

 

"What's happening?" Chanyeol's weak but deep voice emerged from in front of Junmyeon. All he could see was the back of Chanyeol's head while Yerim fastened his belt and put Chanyeol's shoes on. His tall friend was heavy in his arms, normally not a problem, but Junmyeon believed that he was weaker than Chanyeol at this point.

 

Yerim couldn't help him, because she didn't know. She'd simply thought the sight would scare him, and wanted him prepared for what he was going to see. Little did she know, all of it meant way more, and only to Junmyeon.

 

Screams echoed in Junmyeon’s brain, and he was at the verge of unconsciousness. The fear and guilt ate away at his skin, as if it was going to leave him a pile of mere bones when it was done with him.

 

Yerim was ready, and gripped Chanyeol's legs tightly. "What are you doing?" Chanyeol said, voice definitely steadier now. His grey skin was still hot, Junmyeon felt through the fabric of his clothes, but Junmyeon was on fire.

 

When Yerim moved backwards, heading for the door and avoiding the blood on the ground, Junmyeon had troubles stumbling after her. "Yerim, wait, put Chanyeol down."

 

She looked at him with a terrified expression, screaming _We can't afford this!_ but Junmyeon had already lowered Chanyeol's upper body onto one of the armchairs, and it was up to Yerim to make him comfortable there, if that even mattered.

 

Junmyeon pressed his palms to his temple. It was getting hard to breathe. Flashes of memories altered his vision and replaced it with things he'd seen years ago. Seongwan was someone else. Sooyoung was someone else. Their blood stained the carpet as much as his soul.

 

He choked, and inhaled sharply to recover. Yerim had let go of Chanyeol and panicked, grabbing Junmyeon's shirt and shaking him. She let her hands wander to his triceps and dug her fingers into his skin. She shook him again, to make Junmyeon look at her, but he couldn't look at anything right now.

 

Looking past Yerim, past Chanyeol, there was another corpse right in front of the door, blocking the way. A leg was propped up against the wall, not falling down even though the body seemed lifeless. He followed the pale leg with his eyes, and found a red dress. The dress might have been white before, but the blood changed its colour to deep red.

 

Junmyeon's constricted throat dried up even more and bothered Junmyeon's breathing passage. As Joohyun was lying there, cold eyes fixated on Junmyeon, she looked a lot like his mother. And the woman next to the box with the whistle. A vague memory stirred in his brain.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a woman towering over him, his hands and feet strapped to the examination bed. She dabbed foam off the corners of Junmyeon's mouth, and her smooth skin white in the light.

 

"Mom?" Junmyeon asked, the only word he spoke voluntarily. His voice is higher, and Junmyeon is younger. She looked a lot like his mother, but something told Junmyeon that it wasn't her.

 

The woman smiled, forced, but needed. As if she sincerely wanted to smile, but it just wasn't easy and didn't come natural.

 

"Ah, no," she said, finishing off with the towel and putting it aside. "She's preparing your new room."

 

"New room?" Junmyeon was a teenager. His claws still burned under his skin, and the wounds ached from where they had emerged a few days ago, for only the second time in his life. They were still bones, yet to be replaced by the adamantium plates that were being forged for him.

 

The woman smiled again, less forced this time, and her silky black hair was so beautiful, like his mother's. It tickled the back of his hands. "Yes, you'll be transferred. Our second . . . patient needs a lot more space, so my colleagues made the decision to switch your rooms."

 

"I don't know you," Junmyeon replied, bluntly.

 

"You don't, that's true. I work on the first project. There's not much for me to do right now, so I thought I'd pay a visit and go through your records." Her smile didn't leave her face, and yes, she could have been his mother’s identical twin.

 

Junmyeon's eyes darted over the ceiling, the pupils even disappearing for a moment and leaving the whites. "I see."

 

"First project," Junmyeon echoed, and looked at her. He didn't feel much beside the throbbing in his hands and feet, and he also didn't have any thoughts. "Not me."

 

"Not you. Do you want me to tell you about the first project?" The woman said, and Junmyeon read the name tag on her chest. _Bae Joohyun_ , it read. She was trying to be friendly, but it was alien to Junmyeon. To him, it was a simple proposition. Not an attempt to distract from the Band-Aids around his hands and feet.

 

He nodded.

 

Bae Joohyun shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. She folded her hands neatly in her lap and straightened her back. "Alright then. You see, our project is quite the difficult one. At first, he was the focus, and when things went smoothly my colleagues decided to propose your project and work on it parallely."

 

There were two of them.

 

"So, all the people that work here were divided in two groups," Bae Joohyun pressed her palms together, then separated them, as if Junmyeon was a child that would not understand otherwise. He didn't like that.

 

"One group works on your project, and my group works on the other project. But lately, your friend has been feeling unwell." _Your friend._

 

That word was also alien. He heard it a few times, but it's meaning had never had any relation to Junmyeon. Now, he was supposed to have one. But Junmyeon was the only one there is.

 

Bae Joohyun continued, slowly, as if Junmyeon was even slower to comprehend her explanation. "He needs more space to think, because he's been doing that a lot lately, X'O. He used to work well with us, but then he stopped reacting and . . . shut down, like a computer. He stopped playing with the toys we gave him and . . . stopped answering questions Mom and Dad asked.”

 

"When we asked him how we could help him, he said that he needs more space for his thoughts. That's why he's going to need your room, X'O, because you needed a lot of space for your training. But you worked hard, didn't you? So now you're so good at what you do that you can give your room to someone that needs it," Joohyun had bowed over slightly, and Junmyeon didn't like the way she spoke. It was unusual. He was used to the brief demands and formal language the scientists used around him. His name, X'O, had never sounded this sweet before.

 

"Are you fine with giving your friend your room?" Bae Joohyun asked, as if there was a choice.

 

Junmyeon wasn't sure. He was never asked if he was fine with anything. Unable to think of something else to say, and not wanting to be disobedient, Junmyeon found the simplest answer there was. "Yes."

 

Bae Joohyun smiled again, and she looked like his mom again. "That's very nice of you. I will make sure my friend will visit you, and then you will get a present."

 

"A present?"

 

Bae Joohyun nodded. "A present! How does that sound?"

 

"Why does my friend think so much?" The question slipped over his tongue before he could stop himself. That wasn't the answer to the lady’s question. He was disobedient. Junmyeon curled up in himself, and faced away from the woman, ready for the punishment.

 

Nothing happened, and Junmyeon dared to turn his head back to her. Her face had fallen, and she was chewing on her lips in thought. She did not look angry, and Junmyeon felt something like relief.

 

She cleared her throat. "Your friend . . . _likes_ thinking. He discovered that it makes him feel different. So we're doing our best to adapt. I have to be honest and say that it is inconvenient sometimes, when we need to work, because then he will just sit and do absolutely nothing."

 

"We're patient of course," she quickly added, "because we don't want to hurt him."

 

"Understood," Junmyeon nodded knowingly. The straps around his wrists felt tight, and Bae Joohyun noticed his slight fidgeting.

 

"I will loosen these," Bae Joohyun stated, and she did. After she had freed his right wrist from the pressure, the woman bowed over him to free his left hand. She smelled good, Junmyeon found.

 

"Can I meet my friend?" He said into her hair, and she moved away once she'd loosened the other strap. He didn't say _'thank you'_ because he didn't know what it meant.

 

Bae Joohyun sat back down on her chair and swayed softly, unsure of what to reply. Junmyeon knew that. He learned about it.

 

"I don't think that could happen anywhere in the near future, X'O," she said, truthful. "But your friend . . . very much wants to see you."

 

He did?

 

A man barged into the room, and Junmyeon had never seen him before. Bae Joohyun spun in her seat and her eyes widened in surprise. "God, you scared me!"

 

"I scare you more than that thing there?" He asked, and went through paper records in his hands. Bae Joohyun looked at Junmyeon apologetically, but Junmyeon didn't know why.

 

"Okay, so, listen up Joo: we're moving X'O in about twenty minutes, we need you with project one," he explained, and fiddled with the papers while some fluttered to the ground.

 

He crouched down to pick them up, but only more papers slipped from the pile. "Ah, fuck."

 

Junmyeon could tell that he was having a bad day already, and the papers annoyed him even more. "What are you even doing here, Joohyun?" The man groaned.

 

"I was just talking to X'O," she explained, and gave the man one of her dazzling smiles.

 

"I can see that. About what? You know we're not allowed to be around for a great amount of time." He looked at his watch and compared it with what was printed on the pink paper he was holding.

 

Bae Joohyun hesitated, but continued speaking the truth. "I told him about our other project. He's curious about his friend." She put a strange emphasis on _'his friend'_ and the man eyed her quizzically. She wanted him to play along, but he wasn't having it.

 

"Excuse me? Are you insane? You're gonna get us killed," the man rushed over to Bae Joohyun and pulled her up to her feet by her arm. She gasped and tried to break out of his grip.

 

"Stop that, it hurts!" She said and the man pushed her against the wall. The grip around her arm tightened, and Joohyun turned away from him to protect the rest of her body. Junmyeon watched from below, an odd protective feeling bubbling up inside of him.

 

The man leaned in and hissed into her ear, "You know exactly what's gonna happen if they grow curious and it's gonna end with our fucking deaths!"

 

Junmyeon's arms were free. He could easily slip out of the straps and cut his legs free, too. Then he could help the . . . _nice woman._

 

"I do what I think is right," Joohyun spit and locked eyes with him. Junmyeon's head was tilted at a straining angle, but this way he could better see the happenings. The man was a lot taller than Joohyun, but she didn't look intimidated.

 

"This is all bullshit anyway," she hissed, and dug the fingernails of her free hand into the man's. He groaned and let go of her arm, and Joohyun punched him in the face before she stormed away from him, and he stumbled away. She pointed at Junmyeon. “None of you have any idea what damage you’re actually causing, and you worry that X'O and 0-0-1 will riot if their paths cross? I don’t believe in that.”

 

She gave Junmyeon an odd look, one he couldn’t quite decipher. He didn’t understand what that would mean. It meant: _I’ll help you._

 

Bae Joohyun left the room, leaving Junmyeon with the stranger. She was a stranger, too, but in the few minutes he’d known her, she felt familiar enough already.

 

The man held his cheek where she had hit him with one hand, and fumbled around at his shirt with the other. He found a microphone and and spoke into it, “This is Kim Jongin. We need to put X'O under, and I would like to report Bae Joohyun for informing X'O of 0-0-1, which violates the rules.”

 

He waited a few moments, listening to the reply he received. Junmyeon heard the voice, even though Kim Jongin was standing too far away. A middle aged woman. Harsh. _“Erase his memories.”_

 

“Now?” Kim Jongin furrowed his eyebrows. “But the transfer—”

 

_“Can wait.”_

 

Kim Jongin obeyed and marched over to Junmyeon. He noticed the loose straps and fastened them with angry, incoherent murmuring. “Time to go, monster.”

 

He pushed the bed out of the safety catch and moved to take Junmyeon to a place where it’s nice and he could forget about 0-0-1.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yerim had tears in her eyes. Junmyeon snapped out of the memory, and Yerim’s round face was the first thing he saw. She tugged at his shirt to get his attention, desperation written all over her face. _Just ignore it,_ she had said, but it wasn’t that easy.

 

She ran to move Joohyun out of the way, and Junmyeon watched, petrified, as Joohyun slid out of his sight. All sounds were muffled, and Junmyeon had static echoing in his ears.

 

“Junmyeon? Junmyeon?” Chanyeol had to repeat his name multiple times until he caught on it.

 

"Chanyeol," Junmyeon panted and sat on the armrest for stability. He hadn't told Chanyeol, but Chanyeol seemed to know. All of this, it had meaning to Junmyeon, it was the purpose of Limbo presented on a silver tray. Only Chanyeol and Yerim didn't know, but Chanyeol looked like he understood his position.

 

He hadn't met None, or 0-0-1, before. Limbo was None's method of communication. All of this had a meaning, except Junmyeon didn't understand it: why did it have to be like this? There was a different way, he was certain of that. There had to be. But it was too late now, and Junmyeon was entangled in threads of memories and theories.

 

Junmyeon was selfish. On top of being a killer, he was also selfish. Because Chanyeol was a thousand times worse off than him. Because Yerim needed his help and he watched powerlessly. Those claws inside his skin, useless. Junmyeon was useless.

 

Yerim ran over to them and grabbed Chanyeol's legs again. He looked over her shoulder as she got ready to move backwards, and Junmyeon forced himself with the last will that remained to embrace Chanyeol from behind again and carry him out of the door. There needed to be a moment of control—he had to control himself for just a few more moments.

 

The skin of his cheek tore open, slowly; blood ran down his face like he had experienced before. The stinging of the wound distracted him, but he knew it was going to vanish when his healing factor kicked in. The blood dripped into Chanyeol's hair, but there was nothing to do about that.

 

Just before the door frame, Yerim's eyes widened. She dropped Chanyeol's legs abruptly, earning a muffled yelp from their ill friend, but he didn't complain. Junmyeon stood there, blood rushing into his ears as his knees became unsteady and it took all his might to stand upright; he watched Yerim go about what she'd noticed.

 

The heavy book with the lock Seulgi had shown them a few days before lay on the coffee table, open. Yerim closed the book and the lock rattled as she stuffed it into her backpack, the corners prominent through the fabric since the book was just a little too big. Once she was done, she hurried back to them, and a few seconds later they were out of the house that had caught fire.

 

...

 

They ignored the emeralds and rubies in the grass as they wadded through it, the dry texture of it tickling them through their clothes. The sky was pitch black, now. He struggled seeing even Yerim's pale face in the darkness deep as ink. He wondered how Yerim managed to navigate them through the darkness this efficiently.

 

The trio didn't stop until they reached the forest, through which the river flowed, and walked and walked until exhaustion took over. Chanyeol wasn't that heavy, but given their situation and the speed at which they forced themselves to move, it felt as if Chanyeol weighed as much as ten elephants. Deep, deep, deeper into the forest until the house was so far—or maybe it wasn't—that the three could relax.

 

Away from the house and what he'd seen inside, Junmyeon could finally breathe. A heavy rock was lifted from his chest, and the mist retreated from his brain in thoughts. He tried explaining what he saw to himself, but there was no way he could try and swallow what he'd felt this time—the fear, the memory, the guilt—not towards his victims, but towards _None._

 

The house had caught fire like the facility had. Joohyun had died so close to freedom, like his mother had. None seemed to know all these things, because he was there, too. Junmyeon had never seen him leave the facility, he'd never seen None, ever. What was it that made None force Junmyeon to relive these events? What was it that made None force Junmyeon to suffer? It was inexplicable, as of now. And among all those thoughts, there was another one that asked: Where's Seulgi in all of this?

 

Moonlight. The trees parted and allowed moonlight to let them see. Yerim panted, heavily, head in her hands. She didn't make a sound. Chanyeol's head was placed in her lap, his eyes closed and lips parted. Junmyeon hadn't noticed that Chanyeol passed out. There was a large stain of blood on Chanyeol's chest, and Junmyeon moved to find out if he was hurt.

 

He lifted Chanyeol's shirt, and then his hands entered his vision. The adamantium claws in his hands had broken through the skin just an inch, and blood streamed down his hands. Chanyeol was fine. He wasn't. He let go of the shirt and jolted back, letting out a frustrated noise.

 

Thoughts. Too many thoughts. Too many things at once. He needed to breathe, and figure out what all this meant, and how to proceed.

 

None was a project at the facility.

 

Joohyun was a scientist at the facility. So was Kim Jongin. What were they doing here?

 

The girls symbolized Junmyeon's victims, but he'd felt more sorry for None than them.

 

Yerim was with him, unaffected.

 

Chanyeol was ill, perhaps dying. None of them knew how to heal him. None knew.

 

Finding None was now an urgency, and maybe a race against time.

 

"And . . . what do we do now?" Junmyeon asked, and feared he wouldn't get an answer. He was unsure of whether Yerim had taken the notebook or not.

 

She had. And she'd written the response to this question prior to the events; she knew he was going to ask, and she had a number of replies prepared.

 

_We hope to see another day and wait for the next step_

 

"How do we know when and what the next step is?" Junmyeon's eyes darted down to Chanyeol, whose grey face looked dry. There needed to be some way—

 

_Someone should come_

 

Junmyeon sighed. "It's always about people. Why can't we continue on our own? Why do we wait for someone to take us somewhere, why are we so dependent on people?"

 

_Because None is_

 

Yerim's reply made sense, and yet it let the blood freeze in Junmyeon's veins. None was a name he feared now, but it still needed a face. He now knew that None was real, that he couldn't have been some sick fragment of his imagination, and that None really was there and waited for them at the end of the line.

 

He feared the moment where that person would be standing right in front of him, when Junmyeon received the missing puzzle pieces.

 

"He's dependent on people . . . because he's from the facility, like me," Junmyeon said, slowly, and Yerim nodded, "He worked with people all his life, like me."

 

Yerim flipped the paper of her notebook and wrote something.

 

_He's like you_

 

"How do you know?"

 

Yerim smiled, sadly. _It's easy to tell._ And the only explanation for these events that made sense. _He's after you because you have something that he needs_

 

Junmyeon thought long and hard about her words. His hand on Chanyeol's chest heaved up and down with his breath. Maybe Yerim was right, but Junmyeon just didn't understand it yet. If there was something he needed, what would that be?

 

The warmth of the flames still burned his skin, but it wasn't from those in Yerim's home. He still felt the ghost of the flames from _his_ home.

 

Maybe that was it. His home. And None's, too.

  
  
  
  


...

  
  
  


_We need to keep going_

 

Yerim’s note had read before she’d grabbed Chanyeol’s legs again and forced Junmyeon to his feet. Exhaustion was slowly crashing in, but he understood that there was no more time to rest. Every glance at Chanyeol revealed that they needed to find None before it might be too late. And maybe it was time for something else, too.

 

he hates it

 

Beside Yerim’s heavy breathing and Junmyeon’s controlled huffs, there wasn’t much more to be heard. Junmyeon ignored that the sticks they broke while crossing the forest didn’t make a sound.

 

His heart beat quickly in his chest. This shouldn’t be a tedious task for him, Junmyeon reminded himself. He was strong. He was designed for things like this. If there had ever been the need to turn back to who he was before Limbo, it was now. Junmyeon asked Yerim to stop, so that he could carry Chanyeol on his back. His friend wasn’t heavy, not at all. Now that he was concentrating, it was a lot easier. It was easier to deal with this situation, but it wasn’t easy to dissect the thoughts.

 

He thought a lot.

 

A lot of thoughts raced through his brain, about None, about their next step, about his perception of the forest. Junmyeon also worried about the time where they would have to meet None. There was nothing he could prepare himself for, he knew, but if he went with his gut . . . None doesn’t bite let me show you Then perhaps things would turn for the better. All he needed was a clear head, and stay in control of himself when it was time.

 

Chanyeol breathed into the crook of his neck, the regularity of it calming Junmyeon. That was his anchor. Chanyeol was there, he felt him, his body pressed against his own, while his eyes were fixated on Yerim who led the way. People were with him.

 

Yerim climbed over a tree trunk that blocked the way. She turned around, worried, to see if Junmyeon managed by himself. He did; Junmyeon squatted and put all his strength into his legs, then jumped over the trunk. His powers were returning to him.

 

“That was impressive,” He heard Chanyeol murmur into his shoulder. Junmyeon heard the smile in his voice.

 

The corner of Junmyeon’s mouth tilted upwards slightly, not into a smile, but something that was close. “Thanks. I’ll teach you when you’re feeling—” worse

 

Voices.

 

Chanyeol tensed against him when he heard them, and Junmyeon stopped to listen. Yerim did the same, fisting her collar in anticipation.

 

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you, this is no game,” a male voice resonated from what felt like only a few meters away from them.

 

“I never said it was, I never acted like it was, but use your brain. I’d like to believe it’s fully in-tact,” a female voice responded, shrill. “We have to be an example! We need to give hope! If not us, who will then? Just think about it!”

 

Junmyeon crouched down, Chanyeol threatening to flip over his head. He ducked into safety, where they could listen with less risk of being spotted. Yerim crawled over to them.

 

“An example? For what? For whom? Please, just shut up and do your job,” The man said.

 

“My job? I’d rather die than do this job any longer.”

 

“Fine with me! If you keep acting like this, we’ll _all_ die. You can’t give 0-0-1 what he wants, it’s too dangerous. You’re way too naive, just because he’s good with words doesn’t mean you have to listen.”

 

no one listens

 

The woman laughed. “What if he’s right, though? What if he’s not drawing me in, he’s not singing a lullaby, he’s not holding a political speech to convince me. He’s saying what’s on his mind, what he’s _thinking_ , and that’s _progress_. He hasn’t spoken in years, and you know that. Now that he’s telling me what he wants, you’re turning your back on it? You wanted him to interact, _do_ something, for fucking _years_ , and now that he’s speaking his mind you’re shutting him down?”

 

“Not everything has been working in our favour. You’re right, we wanted him to do something. Say something. We wanted 0-0-1 to react to what we wanted him to react to, but now he’s talking about what he wants and _demanding things_. Don’t you see? If we were to listen, we’d die!”

 

Steps, the leaves and the sticks crunched when they moved but not when Junmyeon and Yerim did.

 

“Where are you going,” The man groaned, “It’s common sense, Joohyun!”

  


“Oh, there you are,” Joohyun’s legs suddenly appeared in front of them. Junmyeon shot up without hesitation, and stood tall in front of the woman. Chanyeol didn’t make a sound.

 

His grip around Chanyeol’s thighs was one of steel, but he straightened his back, chest out, to stabilize his posture as he faced Joohyun.

 

She looked different. Her eye make-up was smudged slightly around her eyes and cheeks, her usually glamorous hair straight and lifeless. Not too long ago, Junmyeon had stared into her dead eyes when her _corpse_ was blocking the way to freedom. He pondered for a moment how it was possible for Joohyun to stand in front of him right now, when not too long ago, she had been _dead_.

 

“I’m glad,” She sighed, and rubbed her face, “This will make things easier.”

 

“What?”

 

“I don’t know how much time is left,” Joohyun said, and nervously glanced around as if she was looking out for the person she had been arguing with.

 

"But if we go now, there won't be any trouble."

 

Junmyeon stared at her. She looked messy, but she was still beautiful. As if she had not died not too long ago, Joohyun made plans and assumed Junmyeon would go with her. "How could you possibly . . . ?"

 

"It's okay, Junmyeon. Believe me. Come with me." Joohyun's quick reply. She knew Junmyeon had thought that she was dead.

 

"Where do you want us to go?" Junmyeon asked, then. Yerim stood beside them, watching.

 

"I think it's time now. None might be near, and I can lead you to him. I now know where he is. This is what I believe in, Junmyeon. I have been waiting for the opportunity to unite you," Joohyun explained. Her eyes lit up, a new-found fire burning inside of them, "All you need to do, is to leave Yerim and Chanyeol here. Once I have taken you there, I will return and take care of them. If we're to hesitate now, it might become too difficult."

 

Yerim stepped in between them. She obviously did not like the idea of parting ways with Junmyeon. They were a team now, ever since they had arrived at the house, Yerim had shown nothing but sympathy. She wanted to help Junmyeon and Chanyeol find out on their own, but meeting None was now inevitable. Junmyeon understood her good nature, but maybe there was not any time for it anymore.

 

"None is waiting? Will I . . . be meeting him face to face?" Junmyeon contemplated the idea of meeting None. How the scenery would develop, and what ambitions lurked behind None's actions up until this point. He wanted to meet None, but at the same time, he dreaded the encounter.

 

"Face to face," Joohyun agreed. She looked down at Yerim, who was still shielding Junmyeon and Chanyeol with her own body. "Yerim . . . I know what you're up to. I know you only mean well. But this is the only solution."

 

Yerim did not move. Joohyun did not grow impatient, rushing or unkind. Her features were painted with understanding, but they were aged by worry, too. "I'm the only source of information left. Sure, Junmyeon. You can go with Yerim. But that isn't what None intends, and you will end up making everything more complicated."

 

"Face to face," Junmyeon repeated, "He will tell me who he is, and what I have done to deserve this. He introduced a friend to me and is on the verge of taking him again."

 

Chanyeol tensed up against him at those words, but there was no way around it. Everyone present knew that it was the truth, and that, to Junmyeon, was one more reason to go with Joohyun. Chanyeol's irregular and faint breath against his skin only confirmed that. But he still feared for Yerim and Chanyeol if they waited here—if Chanyeol . . . passed when Junmyeon was not present, he didn't know how he was going to handle it.

 

Joohyun tilted her head and closed her eyes in concentration. "You need to know, though, that None isn't mad at you. He doesn't hold a grudge against you, even though he feels like he has a reason to. He's not a bad person, all you need to do is come with me and listen to him."

 

"Not a bad person?" Junmyeon almost laughed. "And what is the point of torturing innocent people? Would a good person do that?"

 

"No, Junmyeon," There was a long silence after that, "But that means you're not a good person either."

 

And it was true. It was a fact, a damned fact, and a while ago it would have meant nothing to Junmyeon. But her words hit him like a dagger in the chest, because yes, he was not a good person. Yes, maybe he wasn't one to complain. Yes, maybe None was the good person and Junmyeon was getting what he deserved.

 

"I'm coming with you," Junmyeon decided, and lowered Chanyeol onto the ground. He propped him up against the tree trunk, Chanyeol's head rolling loosely on his shoulder. He had not noticed Chanyeol falling unconscious, perhaps by the intensity of their future. Yerim silently protested behind him, walking around and getting into Joohyun's face.

 

Junmyeon grabbed her hand and stared into Yerim's eyes. "I'm going. You take care of Chanyeol in the meantime."

 

Yerim held his strong gaze with furious eyes, until her courage wore down and she accepted that Junmyeon would not change his mind. She accepted that it was more urgent to Junmyeon to understand None than it ever had been. She still thought there was a way out of here, avoiding None. But she kept that to herself, because Junmyeon would not care.

 

Joohyun nodded and looked at Yerim. "I won't leave you behind. That is why I'm here. I won't leave any of you behind."

 

And with that, Junmyeon followed Joohyun deeper into the forest, not turning around to see Yerim and Chanyeol fading into the distance, out of fear that he would change his mind.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

mind do it with your mind i’m tired

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i think what i think i want to talk to him but words are so hard can i think to him? i need him can i think to him?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

mom and dad i love you more but you don’t even love me

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
i haven't felt that in a long time. i thought it was normal but now that he’s gone i don’t think it’s normal anymore what if i was normal then i wouldn’t be here my thoughts bother them and now that he’s gone it’s all that they have but i won’t let him go because he’s here

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He walked beside Joohyun. She lead the way with certainty, as if she had memorized the route years ago.

 

Junmyeon did not say anything, because he saved his words for None. He had no idea of what to expect, what face to expect behind these actions. A number of curiosities had made Limbo the place that it was to Junmyeon. If Junmyeon had a choice, he would return to the children of Dream and ask them for all the answers that he wanted. And if they had none, he would stay with them anyways. Nothing but kindness had waited for him there, and maybe None would have been the same.

 

 _He's not a bad person_ , Joohyun had said. _You just need to come with me and listen to him_. That was what he was doing, but for what outcome? What if Junmyeon was never to return to the friends he left behind?

 

Joohyun led him into a grotto, a gaping cave engraved into the stone wall. Her step was steady, but light at the same time. Junmyeon knew that she was confident, and did not fear what lay ahead. She had proven herself to be trustworthy, so Junmyeon believed that what waited would not be too bad to him. If a proven friend lead him into his death, he was sure she would be more anxious. And he would smell the guilt on her.

 

He wondered if she grieved. Maybe the reason she was here with him was, that her death had been unreal back in the house. But what if Seongwan and Sooyoung were dead, and Joohyun forced herself to help Junmyeon through the grief? Seulgi

 

"Why is None doing this?" A question Junmyeon wanted to ask the person in question himself. But the curiosity was nagging at his skin, and he needed to know as much as possible.

 

It was completely dark inside the cave, but Joohyun still lead with confidence. Junmyeon was able to see her with help of his enhanced senses, but he could not find the way by himself with their help. He saw Joohyun smiling a small smile to herself, not out of happiness.

 

“I don’t think I’m the right person to tell you,” Joohyun answered. She guided Junmyeon past a collection of stalagmites, onto a narrow path that was flooded by a thin layer of water.

 

“You’re the only person I have, though. Please, if you know anything, tell me. I have to save Chanyeol, Joohyun, I don’t know what I’ll do if he . . .” He could not say it a second time. He had been bold when Chanyeol was with him and he should have been considerate. Now he was all that’s on his mind.

 

Joohyun gently pushed him to the right, so he would turn."I'm afraid I can't do that. Please be patient, and trust None. You need to understand it's crucial that you do." Her hand rested at the small of his back, barely touching, but it was enough to send a shiver down Junmyeon's spine.

 

As always, he was left in the dark by someone that knew. He was going to face None with nothing, but trust? Trust was what betrayed him all over again, and it would be no surprise if None would turn on him. If None even intended a friendly encounter, as friendly as it could get considering their circumstances.

 

She slid the two folders over the table and leaned back. "These are for you. I picked today because most of my colleagues are busy with 0-0-1."

 

Junmyeon didn't reach for the beige folders. He scanned the covers; stamps displaying who was authorized to read the content, dates and titles. He had never asked for such information, especially not confidential one. Junmyeon was not one of the authorized people.

 

Joohyun tugged at his shirt, and they walked past a gigantic stalactite that almost touched the ground with its tip. Faint sounds echoed in the distance, like water droplets pearling from the ceiling and mingling with the little puddles on the ground. The air was as clean as it could be, and its moisture was playing with Junmyeon's clothes.

 

"Soon, there will be someone to tell you. I'm not allowed to take you to None directly, but there are two people that will. Although I hate it, those are the people that you need to meet first." Joohyun's words were heavy, and Junmyeon knew why.

 

"Sorry? I thought you were taking me right to None!" Anger flared up inside of him, because he was sick of this. He did not care about anyone else that had to give their opinion about None. He was done with following people's orders, and people's expectations. Junmyeon wanted to talk to None _now_.

 

Joohyun folded her hands to her chest, apologetical expression washing over her face. "Please understand. It's not much more. You can do it."

 

"Why does this happen all the time? How many more people will make me miserable and rob the time I could be with Chanyeol, who's dying out there!" Junmyeon countered. His voice echoed from the walls, and repeated his angered words until the shadows understood.

 

Joohyun lightly gripped her hair and pulled it repeatedly, like a harmless, nervous tick. She had changed so much. Junmyeon remembered the woman with the diadem on the couch. Now she was . . . she was the human embodiment of desperation. "It's necessary. Junmyeon, listen to me."

 

"Read it." She said, and flipped her hair over her shoulder. She rested her elbows on the table, then her chin on her hands. Junmyeon still hesitated, and glanced up to meet her steel look. Moments passed, where Junmyeon didn't do anything at all. She proceeded to ask him a few more times to take the folders and read its content, but he didn't.

 

He disobeyed, he realized. She asked him to do something, and he didn't do as he was told. Junmyeon faced away, ready for his punishment. But nothing happened, and slowly, Junmyeon turned his head back to face her.

 

"I'm not going to hurt you," she promised. _Kang Seulgi_ was written on her badge. "In fact, we're going to make sure that no one does anymore. But for that, you need to help me. All you have to do is pick this up, and read it. Take your time,

 

"We're almost there," Joohyun added, and Junmyeon exhaled loudly. "Almost. I will be there with you, before I leave for Chanyeol and Yerim, alright?"

 

"What if I don't want to?" Junmyeon asked, and if Joohyun's expression could fall any more, it would have hit the bottom of her heart. "What if I skip this, and go right to None? Would that make me any weaker?"

 

"You can absolutely _not_ do that," Joohyun's voice was almost threatening. "You need to take your time before you do. Yes, time might be slowly running out, but it's all going to be worse if you rush it. I didn't want this, None does. I'm just trying to deliver what he wants."

 

"I thought he wanted to meet me? I thought that was what he wanted." Junmyeon was fuming.

 

but not too much."

 

Joohyun tugged at his shirt again and Junmyeon was tempted to slap her hand away. But he remembered Kim Jongin in the laboratory, where he had threatened her, and he realized he would not be any better than him. She tried to do what was right. But was it? And what he was doing, was that right?

 

"One more turn." She promised, and Junmyeon made the turn.

 

Junmyeon picked up the folder and read the small printing in the bottom left corner. 0-0-1, it read. Confidential material.

 

"Flip it open," Kang Seulgi said. Her sharp eyes twinkled. "It's gonna be your ticket outta here."

 

One more turn, and they found a gigantic  door built into the stone wall of the grotto. Joohyun slipped past Junmyeon and tugged at the handles, which squeaked and squealed until she had apparently set something free. Then she kicked the door repeatedly, until it finally moved and swung open. The heavy door creaked, and exposed a new path.

 

"We're here," she whispered, and gave him a little thumbs up. "Come."

  
  


It was like a palace inside. Junmyeon had never been to a palace before, but it had been planned for him to go. He had seen pictures from the interior. There was a number of royals Junmyeon was set to eliminate, but his mother had been quicker. And now he was here, in a palace reachable through a grotto. Something eerie, but formal and cold.

 

"Let's keep moving," Joohyun said, wrapping her arm around Junmyeon's waist this time and pushing him forward. Their steps echoed from the walls, and the dark hallways did not change the feeling the grotto had given.

 

They had not even reached the end of the corridor, when Joohyun halted. She stopped in front of a door, similar to the one that separated the grotto from this palace. She played with the handles again, before carefully opening the door this time.

 

"I will take good care of Chanyeol and Yerim, I promise." Joohyun whispered into his ear before pushing him into the room and closing the door behind him.

  
  
  


Junmyeon did not even take in the room he had been pushed into, as he spun around the very instant and tugged and pulled at the doors to open them, but they did not give in. He hissed and cursed under his breath, but the doors barely even rattled in their frame.

 

"I suppose our time has come." A voice resonated from behind him. He didn't turn around right away, instead Junmyeon just stopped rattling at the door and tried to calm down. "Please, do take a seat."

 

Junmyeon turned around, slowly. He was standing inside a sumptuous room, expensive decoration radiating royalty. There was an enormous bed in the corner, and a large table stretched across the room. One man was seated at the table, while the other of the two stood beside him and tapped a finger on the wood.

 

Both clad in imperial attire, Junmyeon felt terribly out of place.

 

"Yes, it does look like that. Would you like to talk to us, or have you strictly come to make these glasses of champagne our last?" The sitting man held a fancy glass to his heart-shaped lips.

 

"I am Emperor Zhang Yixing," the standing man with the glasses and stern look spoke, "And this is my husband, Do Kyungsoo."

 

Emperor Zhang Yixing gestured for Junmyeon to take a seat, but Junmyeon was petrified. He recognized the emperor, and of his husband, he had heard. There was a rock in his throat too thick to swallow, and the men seemed to know that Junmyeon was in a terrible place right now.

 

"There is no need to worry," the emperor continued. "for if you're the one to take our lives, I suppose we are just as nervous as you are."

 

He walked over to Junmyeon, who couldn't move a finger out of fear. He placed his hand on his back, right where Joohyun’s hand had been, but it felt completely different. It sent little shocks through his body, and Junmyeon couldn’t help but follow the emperor to the table.

 

They sat down, and Junmyeon was faced with Do Kyungsoo. “Let’s see, how should we label this day . . . Doomsday? The big reveal? No, that doesn’t fit at all.”

 

“You’re burning to meet him, aren’t you?” The emperor asked and looked at his husband. “I suppose he should get it over with quickly,” he faced Junmyeon again, “and then all doors are open.”

 

There was an uncomfortable silence after that, because Junmyeon could not control any part of his body. He was scared shitless, and it was getting hard to breathe. Junmyeon lowered his gaze and suddenly the table was more interesting than the two men could ever be.

 

"You're showing a lot of control," The Emperor said, leaning back in his chair. Junmyeon saw his movement out of the corner of his eye, when the man reached for his glass of champagne. "That's progress, don't you think?"

 

Junmyeon didn't reply, and the emperor kicked his chair. "Don't you think?"

 

"I'm afraid . . . I don't know what you mean, Sir," Junmyeon stammered on the spot, speaking the first words that came to mind.

 

Do Kyungsoo laughed. "Looks like it. Kim Junmyeon, or X'O . . . perhaps also called 'None'?"

 

Junmyeon's head shot to face the man, who raised his hands defensively. "Sure got your attention, of course I'm just kidding."

 

The emperor gave his husband a smile, who winked in return. Junmyeon's face was burning with anxiety. "May I . . . may I ask in what way I am displaying progress? I am delighted to hear that I developed for the better."

 

"Of course you can." The emperor leaned forward, and looked at Junmyeon from over his glasses. Junmyeon could not look right into his eyes, so his eyes wandered over the badges and dark green royal attire that painted an image of the man . . . an image of the man that was wildly inaccurate.

 

He tapped a melody onto the table with his knuckles. "Our clothes . . ."

 

As if he wanted Junmyeon to catch on it by himself, without finishing the sentence, the emperor let his words hang in the air. The only continuation Junmyeon was capable of thinking of was _'don't represent us at all.'_ but he doubted that it was what the man wanted to hear. So, he had to settle on giving no response yet again, but looking at the man with staged curiosity in its stead.

 

"Are stained, through and through, with trigger scent. And yet you have not shown a sign of realization. I do believe that this is progress, indeed."

 

For a brief moment, Junmyeon forgot how to breathe. Trigger scent. The familiar scent mixing with apple pie, thickening the stench in the house, following him his entire journey all this time, _could it have been?_

 

"I know what you're thinking," Do Kyungsoo continued for his husband, "and you're right. Everywhere. Even on Chanyeol." He made a pause, allowing Junmyeon to let the information sink in.

  


Even on Chanyeol

  


Even on Chanyeol

  


Even on Chanyeol

  


Even on Chanyeol

  
  


Even on Chanyeol

  


Even on Chanyeol

  


His heart raced against the rushing blood inside his body. Heat made his head feel like it was on the verge of exploding. Junmyeon had not thought about the trigger scent in so long, too long.

 

Emperor Zhang Yixing waved his hand, accompanying the gesture with a sharp nod. Junmyeon watched as Jaemin entered the room with a book in his hands.

 

It was the very same book Seulgi had held when Joohyun had wanted to tell them the story of Limbo. It was the book Yerim had remembered when they were just about to leave, and stuffed into her bag before leaving the burning house for good. And the book had found its way into Jaemin's hands, in this place, but Junmyeon wondered just what Jaemin was doing here.

 

Jaemin placed the book on the table and bowed. He waited until the emperor turned his attention to it, then looked up and gave Junmyeon a wink. Junmyeon did not know what to think. Nothing made sense.

 

"You can leave now," The emperor said, not looking up from the cover of the book.

 

Jaemin cleared his throat instead. "I ask permission to speak."

 

"Granted, but make it quick." The emperor removed the lock and flipped the book open, Junmyeon burned to steal a glance of its content but he could not face away from Jaemin.

 

Jaemin's wide grin brought a little bit of light into his feelings. "It's over soon, you don't have to worry anymore."

 

Then his expression fell, to imitate the serious one of the emperor, and he bowed to both of the high-ranking men respectively before leaving the room.

 

"A nice kid," Do Kyungsoo said. "But who knows how trustworthy he is."

 

With each passing second from this moment, Junmyeon felt himself become sweaty and the anxiety dammed up inside of him. Trigger scent, the men had said. But there was absolutely no way that out of all the times he could have reacted, now was the time his body responded to the urge the trigger scent awoke. He did not feel that urge. There was something else.

 

The silence was almost unbearable. Zhang Yixing continued to flick through the book, and Junmyeon could have looked, but he didn't manage to get himself to do it. Right there, was perhaps the solution to the biggest riddle. He did not look.

 

"You recognize us."

 

He did, but words did not find a way to leave his mouth. It felt like years had passed since he had last seen them. There was no way to possibly describe how he felt.

 

"So, Junmyeon. Do you know what you are going to do now?"

 

Junmyeon thought, hard. _Stay on the right track_. "No, Sir. What am I going to do now?"

 

His own words hit him hard. It's been a long time since he had to speak like this, but he fell back into the habit so quickly.

 

“Or, no, I changed my mind.” The emperor waved it off. “How about you rest a little bit before we do?”

 

“Whatever it is the . . . emperor wants to do, I am ready for it. Please allow me to say that I do not need rest.” Junmyeon attempted to get it over with quickly. He was not lying, he truly meant his words like he spoke them. But the man did not feel the same about them.

 

“I don’t.”

 

With that, he waved at Junmyeon, perhaps it was ridicule that transformed his face, and Junmyeon’s head hit hard on the table and he was out cold.

 

...

 

Junmyeon woke to Jaemin’s face. Jaemin was sitting at the edge of his bed, brown hair falling into his eyes as he flipped through the book in his hands in thought. It reminded him of Sooyoung, who had flipped through her novel like she had not been even reading, and the emperor, because the book he was flipping through was the thick one Yerim had taken with them.

 

“You’re awake,” Jaemin didn’t look up from the book until he had reached the last page. His eyes lingered on this one for a little longer, brows furrowing in thought. Then he closed the book, and turned his attention fully to Junmyeon.

 

Junmyeon felt heavy. Exhaustion made his limbs feel numb, and there was a throbbing pain at the top of his head, where he had hit the table. He felt weak.

 

“You know, I shouldn’t really be here. If the emperor was to find out . . .” Jaemin paused and sighed. “Needless to say it’ll result in _trouble_.”

 

Junmyeon could not speak. He wanted to respond to Jaemin, a familiar and friendly face that brought calm with it. He still felt a little breathless from the events from before, and he still didn't know what to think of the emperor and his husband. They, too, were familiar faces, but there was nothing better than Jaemin's friendly eyes in contrast to the couple's stares. They were just talking to him like they used to, but now it felt completely different to Junmyeon. What used to be normal, made Junmyeon highly uncomfortable now. He was so happy to see Jaemin in Zhang Yixing's stead, but he could not find a way to let him know.

 

"I'm sure you must have a lot of questions," Jaemin said, and for a second Junmyeon imagined Joohyun in his place. She had used the exact same words upon their _first meeting_ , and Junmyeon was sure that Jaemin knew about that.

 

". . . but this time, I can't answer them. We should have been more thorough in Dream City." Worry tugged at the corner of Jaemin's lips, and his eyes flicked over Junmyeon's body. "Here, I'll help you sit up."

 

He wrapped an arm around Junmyeon's stiff body, and slowly propped him up against the headboard. There was barely any feeling in Junmyeon's body, and he felt a tiny bit embarrassed that a child was helping him more than he could ever return the favour. Jaemin had done a lot before.

 

Jaemin seemed to be perfectly fine with doing all the talking. It didn't feel like he expected an answer from Junmyeon at all. "I just came to tell you a few things, that maybe put a few things together for you."

 

"You know my mom, Joohyun?"

 

Joohyun was his mother?

 

"I was a toddler when you first met her. Anyway . . . my mom is really proud of you. The emperor was not wrong when he said you made progress, but his words were a little ambiguous. You changed a lot, and I want to help you more, but I have to leave soon. None doesn't want me here any longer."

 

"How does None do this?" Junmyeon finally could ask him. Jaemin revealing that he was Joohyun's son sparked questions, and suspicions, but he was too unsure.

 

"With his thoughts?" Jaemin pondered a moment. "It's difficult to explain. His powers . . . well, you both are completely different, but overlap in certain aspects. He is a mutant like you, but your powers are finite. None's powers are limitless."

 

There was a little pause after that, in which Jaemin fidgeted around. “Nobody quite understood, or rather, _understands_ his powers. ‘Limitless’ is such a strong word, don’t you think? There’s no way he can actually be . . . _omnipotent_ , right?”

 

“Everybody does what could trigger an answer, or any kind of useful reaction out of None. He remains unpredictable and dangerous, even though he has never done anything. By that I don’t mean anything _bad_ , I mean that he has literally never done anything. He sits there and watches, but he never acts. But then . . .”

 

Jaemin looked back at Junmyeon and their eyes locked. Jaemin’s gaze was powerful, he looked determined. “Now, this is not confirmed. I’m just getting through to him, but I think None found out about our mothers’ plans to free you. He was included in those plans as well, but I doubt that he knew.”

 

Jaemin fumbled around in the pocket of his jacket, then pulled out a rose-coloured piece of paper. He unfolded it carefully, and Junmyeon watched his eyes jump between the lines of its content. Then, Jaemin handed Junmyeon the piece of paper hesitantly, as if he was making a decision he was still unsure about.

 

He accepted the letter and spent a few more moments looking at Jaemin instead of reading it. After a few seconds passed, Junmyeon finally read what had been given to him. He had expected None’s lively cursive handwriting, but was met with a child’s handwriting instead.

 

_Hi X’O!_

 

_I heard that you broke your arm but it healed!!! How did you do that? It’s so amazin!_

_If it still hurts then I’m sorry. Please know that Im wishing you the best!!_

 

 _Today my mom came to visit me. She didn’t look happy. I missed my sister Yeri_ (♡♡) _but mom didn’t bring her. :(_

 _Mom said that our family is soooo busy now that they can’t come to visit me anymore. Mom didn’t look at me but I think it was because she is so sad. I understand!!! Making time to visit me often is maybe dificult. So I hope for the best. I have an apoinment now with DR_ _Zhang and DR Do. Becose it’s my birthday tomorow I think they want to give me a present already!!_

 

_I am giving this to my supeviser, so I hope you get this. Have a nice day friend!_

 

_Letter #203_

_PS. I want to meet you!!_

██████████████ _!!!_

 

Junmyeon looked at Jaemin quizzically, unsure of what to think about the letter. He certainly didn’t recall anybody sending him letters, not once in his life had he received one. Yet the signature revealed that this one was supposedly the two hundred third letter written to him, and he had never gotten it. The blocked out text on the bottom of the page . . . Junmyeon assumed that it was a name, and he also hoped that Jaemin could tell him who it was.

 

"My mom wants you to know that when the facility burned down,—" Jaemin was interrupted by the door flying open. Do Kyungsoo entered the room, giving Jaemin an angry look. It looked strange on his soft features, all the more threatening.

 

"Sir, I was just checking on him." Jaemin lied immediately, stood and bowed repeatedly. "Please forgive me."

 

"We don't have time for this," Do Kyungsoo hissed as he walked to Junmyeon's side. He gripped Jaemin's wrist tightly, and Junmyeon saw pain flash on Jaemin's face, but the boy was in control. He did not lower his gaze, opposing Do Kyungsoo. "And we'll deal with _you_ later."

 

"Yes, Sir." Do Kyungsoo released his wrist, and Jaemin rubbed the red skin. He nodded at Junmyeon, bowed briefly, and left the room. Pure hatred transformed Jaemin’s face, and Junmyeon had never seen such raw emotion in his life. Especially on such a gentle soul like Jaemin, out of place and all the more meaningful.

 

Once Jaemin was gone, the man turned to Junmyeon. "It's time. Hope you rested well, you'll need it.”

  
  
  


Junmyeon had finally assembled all his willpower to step into the corridor, into the emperor’s company. The emperor waited for him with the book in his hands, his glasses low on his nose as his stern look pierced holes into Junmyeon. It was impossible, but Junmyeon almost felt it. He felt everything, and he tried to conceal the trembling of his hands by pressing them to his body.

 

"You wouldn't have thought to meet me in a place like this," Zhang Yixing said, his words echoing from the walls of the hallway, and started walking. Junmyeon took big steps to catch up to him. "Which makes it all the more fun."

 

"Bae Joohyun . . ." Junmyeon whispered to himself, not looking up at the man. It was taking all of his concentration to stay in control over his hands all the while listening and responding to the man.

 

"One of our scientists, but I'm sure you knew that before." They took a turn. "But me, that’s the only person you ever _recognized_. Why do you think that is?”

 

Junmyeon pretended to think hard and long for an answer, but in reality he had None. He never had any reply to whatever question Zhang Yixing had asked, which resulted in punishment. The scientists had called it a ‘defect’, where the oh-so-perfect X'O failed to respond to commands and questions asked by the head of absolutely everything.

 

Junmyeon, however, would not consider that a ‘defect’. It was simply the only emotion that he had ever dared to show before he entered Limbo, and that was fear.

 

“Still no reply,” Zhang Yixing must have thought the same. “Doesn’t look like you changed that much, after all.”

 

That earned him a hesitant side-eye from Junmyeon, and he noticed. Provoking a reaction had been his intention, and there it was, albeit subtle. “No, you did, didn’t you? You also grew weirdly attached to Park Chanyeol and Byun Yerim.”

 

“What, you’re not even asking how I know?” Zhang Yixing appeared unusual on many levels. His formal language and attitude back at the facility was completely wiped away, he was dressed in an emperor’s gowns but he spoke like Junmyeon was not at all his creation and vision.

 

“That’s seriously no fun.”

 

“How do you know, Sir?” Junmyeon asked, then, and Zhang Yixing raised his eyebrows at him. He had not meant it in a provoking way, but simply surrendered to what he had expected of him. Junmyeon felt all of his energy leaving his body, leaving a stiff plank of a person.

 

“I know a few teeny tiny details that make Limbo senseful. Those are all _you_ need to know, as well. It is so easy, to pierce together everything. The puzzle pieces are all right there.” The man said, his gaze burning itself into Junmyeon’s skin.

 

“In fact, they’re all _here_.” He held up the book that had been pressed to his chest. “Everything you need to know about None before you get to meet him, for all the rest. And I will give this information to you,”

 

Junmyeon already extended his hand for the book.

 

“Under one condition.”

 

Conditions. Somewhere inside of him, he felt like he did not have time for conditions at all. Time was perhaps running out, None only a hair’s breadth away, but yet conditions slowed down his path to the reveal. He waited for Zhang Yixing to speak.

 

“Remember Byun Baekhyun.”

 

 _Who is Byun Bae—_ Junmyeon didn’t even have time to finish his thought, as the emperor flipped the book open and pressed it to his chest. Junmyeon took the book and stared at the big, bold printed words on the very first page.

 

Zhang Yixing's presence loomed over him as he hesitated to flip the page, a certain anxiety bubbling up in his stomach and making his neck feel hot. There was no way all the answers could have been in this book all this time, and he was sure that Yerim had taken the book with her out of the burning house, so how come it was that it was in his hands now and not when Yerim had it? Was it None's influence, did he take the book from her? He would have preferred reading it with her. Not with the person who conceptualized, designed and created him. Not with Zhang Yixing and Do Kyungsoo, the heads of EXODUS Laboratories.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**SOUL GLITCH**  Exhibition by Byun Baekhyun

 

  1. **Agony**  (unknown year)



_A punishment for those that dare to ask a question, I wonder if mankind has gone mad._

 

The first picture shows someone with a scratched out face. He is strapped to an examination bed, like he himself had been before, except he is laying weirdly twisted. There are red marks all over his skin, and wounds stretch over his thighs. Next to him, on the wall, there is a metal plate that reads 0-0-1.

 

  1. **Omniscience**  (unknown year)



_My knowledge of myself is not sufficient, the pressure of their expectation unbearable._

 

The next picture is the same man sitting in a chair, wearing the sanitary clothing Junmyeon had gotten used to. Here, Junmyeon would have been able to see his face better, if his face weren’t completely scratched out. He is fairly close to the camera. The man isn't strapped on this chair, but it also doesn't look like there is someone else who kept in him in check.

 

  1. **Dream City**  (unknown year)



_I seek comfort in the arms and words of children; more compassionate than any adult, wiser than any adult._

 

The Boy Scouts of dream, dressed in formal suits, are posing for a picture with the sitting man. Again, his face is scratched out. Jaemin’s arms are around the man’s shoulders, and his eyes are shut through laughter. Chenle kneels by the man’s side, head leaning against his knees. Mark is behind him, hands on Chenle’s shoulders, dodging a kiss on the cheek from Donghyuck. Jisung and Jeno are posing together at the other side, and Renjun stands beside Jaemin, ruffling his hair. It is an innocent picture, a moment of happiness.

 

  1. **One Day**  (unknown year)



_Hope is left in bits and pieces, it won’t be gone until I understand._

 

Curled up is the man in the dark. Although the picture is quite dark, Junmyeon was able to see him clearly. He is laying in the fetal position, one arm reaching into the sky. As if he wants to grab something that isn't there, but his arm is too short. As if he longed for something.

 

  1. **The Spirits**  (unknown year)



_"You can do it, 0-0-1, do it with your mind."_

_I don't want to._

_"Then X'O will do the job for you, and you'll face the consequences."_

 

None, was that man's name, Junmyeon knew. Maybe he had a civilian name, like Junmyeon did. Kim Junmyeon. None is standing in front of some sort of a blackboard. Magnets pin head shots of multiple people onto the blackboard, and None is pointing at two of them. Junmyeon recognized those people. Lee Taeyong, whom Junmyeon had killed. Wong Yukhei, who had suffered the same fate. None had picked them out?

 

  1. **Friend**  (unknown year)



_Someone who feels what I feel, but is too far away. I look at you and all I want is to tell you that I’m there but they won’t let me_

 

This one shows someone from the back, but it is very likely that it's the same person from before. He is looking through a narrow window that stretches over a wall, at the height of his head and twice the size from then. His hands are pressed against the glass, and Junmyeon could see what the man is looking at clearly. It is him, Junmyeon chained to the ground and being whipped for disobedience. The marks on Junmyeon's skin in this look like the ones on the man's body in the first picture. He held his breath upon seeing his own almost disfigured frame and nausea tugged at his throat.

 

  1. **Dream’s History is False**  (unknown year)



_She knew._

 

Bae Joohyun. She is sitting next to the man, strange smile across her face, and the man looks stiff next to her. The sleeves of his coat are rolled up, revealing the bruises and red marks on his skin. Joohyun’s hand is rested on his thigh, a reassuring gesture that doesn’t seem to do its job.

 

  1. **Yerim**  (unknown year)



_My little sister, who was always stronger than me, will be the light for many more people until I come home._

 

Yerim grins widely. Her hair is longer, but it is obviously her. She is wearing a nice dress, standing on a bridge. Behind her in the distance, the Yangsan Tower is to be seen. Yerim holds up V-signs, framing her face. She looks happy, different from the tougher Yerim that Junmyeon knew.

 

  1. **The River**  (unknown year)



_Spilt blood for no reason, what have I done_

 

None inside the room Junmyeon had grown up in, the room he had had to trade for None's. He sits in the corner of the room, in a puddle of blood which is collected and flew across the room like a river, similar to what Junmyeon had seen in Yerim's house.

 

  1. **Leaders**  (unknown year)



_We were their great vision. Inside their minds we’re masterpieces, outside of it we’re not even close to perfection._

 

This page showed Zhang Yixing like Junmyeon knew him; lab coat and name tag hung around his neck. His partner-in-crime, a mere colleague in real life exaggerated to be a husband in Limbo, Do Kyungsoo right beside him. Someone was shown in the back of the photo, though his face was slightly blurred due to his movement, Junmyeon was a hundred percent sure that it was Chanyeol.

 

  1. **Na Jaemin**  (unknown year)



_The bravest boy, who patched me up and convinced me that my humanity was still worth something._

 

Jaemin is standing next to a fully wrapped up figure. Bandages and casts completely cover None’s body, he could tell it is None by the hidden face. Jaemin is wrapping the next layer of bandages around None’s arm, a concentrated but gentle expression on his face.

 

  1. **Ashes, ashes**  (unknown year)



_I can’t fall down_

 

Jaemin is seemingly the only person depicted in the penultimate photograph. The room is badly illuminated, and Jaemin’s face lies in shadows. His body is barely even to be seen. Jaemin is smiling at something next to the camera, judging by how his eyes just miss where the camera would have been. Following the faint signs of Jaemin’s body with his eyes, Junmyeon saw that there is another pair of legs next to Jaemin’s.

 

  1. **Reality**  (unknown year)



_Beyond my comprehension lies the purpose I was given. I am not human, but a mere piece of art they exhibit for none to see and for all to dread._

 

The last photograph depicts None, but this time, his face is not scratched out. Junmyeon is actually able to see what he looks like. His face is covered in tiny cuts. His eyes are red and swollen from crying, like the damp and shimmery cheeks revealed. It is a close-up picture, but there is no camera that reflects in his eyes. Junmyeon saw None’s face for the first time. The man who was responsible for this, staring back at him from this photograph, in this book. There he was.  _Right there._

  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And when Zhang Yixing realized that Junmyeon was done with the book, something happened that flipped the entirety of Limbo upside down. The door behind Junmyeon, in this long, cold corridor, opened all by itself, and all Zhang Yixing had to do was push X'O into the room it revealed. Save Byun Baekhyun.


	3. Chapter 3

Junmyeon stumbled into the room, backwards, tripping over his feet and falling. The book slid away, a few pages falling out. If the core of the book held more answers, he would not know now. He should not have skipped pages. He should not have been impatient, or worse, cowardly.

 

He was met with the trigger scent. Its waves and spirals entered his body violently, and grabbed him by his shoulders. The purpose of the trigger scent clouded his mind and his claws cut through his skin, this time it was no familiar sting. They pulled a scream out of his throat, almost more painful than the claws themselves. Blood ran all over his hands, and he could not find comfort in his own body as his claws would have drawn more blood. It was the same for the two toe claws, that cut through his thin shoe, filled and soaked the weak fabric with Junmyeon's pitiful blood. He was sitting in a puddle of his own disaster, a mess made by his own body, and his legs twitched at the touch of his blood.

 

His senses were overwhelmed. Junmyeon was jerked to his feet, and in this plain white room, everything was familiar. The floor was white, the walls were white, the room was greatly illuminated and he felt exposed. A room like the one he grew up in, it only lacked the window used to watch him.

 

Junmyeon was trembling. His eyes hazed over with an urge to kill. That was the trigger scent he knew. Not the smells that guided him through Limbo, so familiar and yet estranged. Those were components of the trigger scent, but this here, this was the _result._

 

Pictures appeared in front of him, vivid images of the woman who attempted to kill him when he fled the burning facility. She reeked of trigger scent, he lashed out. He rose his arm high into the air, and buried his claws into the threatening face that only wished to die. But she disappeared, and the next image greeted him.

 

The children of Dream, one after the other, appeared and circled him, and Junmyeon jerked around violently, jumped and lashed out into the different directions to eliminate the enemies. The memory of Chenle explaining Dream City. He reeked of trigger scent, he lashed out. Jaemin on the floor, talking about his friend. He reeked of trigger scent, Junmyeon lashed out. He was vibrating, leaping from one place to the other to catch the enemy. He spun in place, facing the different children and just _tried to kill them but it did not work._

 

The images were replaced by various sceneries involving Chanyeol. But Chanyeol was no exception, and Junmyeon buried his claws into the stomach of sleeping Chanyeol, sick Chanyeol, Chanyeol awkwardly complimenting the children, and Chanyeol standing in the corridor of Yerim's house. Chanyeol meant nothing, all of a sudden. Junmyeon felt nothing, all of a sudden.

 

There was a hot stench to the trigger scent. It burned in Junmyeon's nose and punched tears out of him. He never understood how a simple substance managed to control Junmyeon entirely, dominating his conscience, and turning him into something less worthy of life than anybody he ever killed.

 

Something happened, that he had never experienced before. As he was scratching Chanyeol's face open, Junmyeon felt out of breath. He choked, and inhaled violently. His claws stuck to Chanyeol's face and he pulled him down to the ground with him. Junmyeon could not help but scream as he fell to the ground once again, and fear replaced the need to kill. The trigger scent was still dominant, holding Junmyeon hostage like every so often at EXODUS Laboratories. But this time, it was not passing. Always, it was over with quickly, in no time. Now, there was no end to the imaginary killings, so meaningless, but perhaps there was more behind them.

 

Junmyeon's limbs were so heavy, but he could not stop. Miraculously, he actually felt something else besides the urge evoked by the scent. His muscles burned, but he could not stop himself from uselessly kicking Joohyun's shin with the toe claw. The metal penetrated her bones as if they were paper, and his foot was almost inside of her leg. He felt the weight and odd sensation of her leg sticking to his foot, although there was no way she could have been real. Nobody here was real. None was just trying to kill him.

 

A thick substance, like oil, poured over his head and down his face. It burned when it dripped into his eyes, but once it had physically met Junmyeon's nose, it was over. For him.

 

Not only the memories of people in Limbo were soaked in trigger scent, he was too, now. His claws bent, making his sore muscles tense up against their strength and tried to get through to Junmyeon. Betrayed by himself?

 

Junmyeon screamed, but it was weak. He still needed to eliminate everybody who may or may not have been in this room, but himself? That was not possible. It could not have been.

 

He felt as though his eyes would pop in their sockets, when hot pain in his side freed the strain on his face and drew different sounds out of him. He wanted to press his hands onto the wounds, but he was knocked over once again. Someone stepped on his head, or it felt like it, and tried to crush it into the ground. His cheek was pressed to the white floor, his bone almost crumbling under the strain.

 

Legs appeared next to his face, and Junmyeon panicked. He was flipped over, but there was no one towering above him.

 

Junmyeon felt taller. As if he was stretched. His facial features changed, slowly, resulting in what felt like bigger lips and wider eyes, hair that fell into his face but of a different colour, and when he gathered enough strength to raise his head and examine his body, it was not him at all.

 

He coughed up blood, and felt for his slashed waist. There were no claws on his hands, and his hands were larger. The feeling evoked by the trigger scent subsided, until he did not feel anything but the stinging pain in his waist anymore.

 

"Please," he heard himself beg, but he had no control over it. "I didn't do anything wrong." The voice was one he recognized, albeit it was not his own. Wong Yukhei.

 

Then, he entered his own vision. Junmyeon saw himself tower over Wong Yukhei, and he recognized the fire in his eyes. It was already too late for Wong Yukhei, who still held onto a tiny spark of hope, despite his desperate situation. He was different than Junmyeon. Junmyeon had never once held onto a spark of hope.

 

But those thoughts were disturbed by a toe claw, that the Junmyeon above him kicked into Wong Yukhei's thighs. His bent legs dropped to the ground, and a scream escaped Wong Yukhei's—or Junmyeon's—lips. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes, but his head was angled in such a way that they could not slip down his cheeks.

 

Because of him, Wong Yukhei died undignified. _And he did not even know the reason why._

 

Wong Yukhei forced his eyes shut, his scared whispering painting the silence a different colour. It wasn't scary anymore. It was just sad. And as Junmyeon could not see himself anymore, he had to settle on feeling all following damage to Wong Yukhei's body, coughing up blood when the claws cut his abdomen. _His signature._

 

He was begging, but Junmyeon didn’t pay any attention to it. He continued to sink his claws into Wong Yukhei’s chest, but he himself was feeling it now. There would be no way he could forgive himself for this, ever. He snapped out of his promises when he felt hot pain in his mouth—Yukhei’s lips had been slashed, and he hit his head against the ground hard. The blood was running down his throat and dripped into his mouth, but the stream was like a waterfall. He stayed helpless as he felt Yukhei shuffle, and try to flip so he could at least attempt to protect his head from further injuries. But there was not much time for him left, anyway. Yukhei didn’t know, he hoped, but Junmyeon did.

 

Until the tensity was replaced by relaxation and the pain subsided.

 

When Junmyeon opened his eyes again, it wasn’t over.

 

He opened his eyes to an empty room, where he was sat in the corner. Pitiful hiding place, but that was it. He felt different now, too, more slender and fragile. The door moved, and he heard himself hiss. He was just now getting used to his conscience inhabiting somebody else’s body, but that wasn’t the priority. Junmyeon was devastated, but not surprised, when he saw this Junmyeon kicking the door open and cross the room to where he sat. _Lee Taeyong,_ Junmyeon remembered. And he felt sorry. _The least I can do is to remember you._

 

What was None trying to achieve? Junmyeon felt guilty, he couldn’t watch more. It was his fault, he couldn’t watch more. He would have done anything for None to stop, but there he was standing above Lee Taeyong and waiting for the final order.

 

It didn’t take long. Soon, the headpiece the Junmyeon above him was wearing buzzed loudly. The buzzing indicated one thing, and Lee Taeyong did not need to know exactly. He could guess, but Junmyeon _knew_. The both of them did.

 

It took Junmyeon merely a few seconds. Until the rib cage was shredded, until Lee Taeyong’s heart and lungs were naked and exposed. Floods of blood emerged from what once had been a healthy body, and Junmyeon felt all of it.

  


He was out of breath and panting, on the ground and facing the ceiling. Endless white, nothing beyond it, like he had thought back home. Where everything was too far away, and there was nothing more to his existence than the laboratories.

 

Nothing. There was nothing but the guilt that broke his heart. He had experienced what one of his victims had felt. The devastation broke him apart, and Junmyeon was silently weeping on the floor, back in the room that had shaped him.

 

He remained like that for a while, pondering whether or not he should get up and risk a repetition of what just happened. He decided to stay still, and wait for what was to come.

 

Still nothing.

 

A considerable amount of time passed, and nothing happened. Junmyeon first propped himself up on his elbows, feeling every little movement his muscles made burn. Then, Junmyeon tried to gather enough strength to sit up.

 

It was still the white room, except his blood was now flowing over the ground like a river, not sinking into the floor but pearling off and always moving. His head felt as though it had been cracked open, but breathing was finally easier. Until

 

Until someone stepped to his side, and Junmyeon could not bring himself to face them. Never once in his life before he had felt this weak. He was scared.

 

"Hi, Junmyeon."

 

The voice sounded surprisingly timid. Junmyeon did not turn around.

 

The person sat next to him, and their arms brushed. A knee poked slightly into Junmyeon's thigh. It did not seem like they would try and make more advances, and so the two remained sitting in silence from then on.

 

Junmyeon's heart was racing. None had to be the person next to him. There was no other possibility. And even though Junmyeon felt threatened he couldn't do anything to defend himself. Because he didn't do anything. None just sat there, and didn't do anything.

 

Forever passed.

 

And then, "Do you enjoy this, too?"

 

Junmyeon licked his lips and closed his eyes. The voice sounded innocent, and peaceful. There was no way None could have—

 

"My name is Baekhyun. Formally 0-0-1, but you might know me as None. That ring a bell?"

 

If Junmyeon had not been this drained, he would have scoffed. Of course it did. It was on his mind the whole time. Baekhyun shifted against him, and changed the leg he had been sitting on. "Why do you think are you here?"

 

"I don't know," Junmyeon could finally respond. "I don't know anything."

 

"Look at me."

 

Junmyeon didn't know if he should. The request hung in the room, and Baekhyun gave Junmyeon plenty of time to react.

 

It didn't look like there was any rush. There was no need to respond at all, almost.

 

Then, Junmyeon just couldn't wait any longer for nothing, and gave in to Baekhyun's request. He slowly turned to face him, and controlled himself just enough so that he would not wince when he locked eyes with his opponent. The face from the photograph titled ‘Reality’, that was indeed him. And if he had felt scared when None’s face was revealed to him, well, this was a thousand times worse.

 

He tucked his left leg under the other, hoping that following his movements with his eyes would give him a little more time to collect his thoughts and think of a way out of here. _No_ , Junmyeon told himself. _You waited for this. This is the moment. Here he is._

 

"Exactly. You waited for this. I have been waiting, too." Junmyeon's eyes widened when he realized that Baekhyun had responded to his thoughts. Baekhyun smiled, a soft curl of his lips. He didn't look menacing or threatening. He looked . . . exhausted, if anything. Black strands of hair hung into his eyes, and Baekhyun was wearing a coat that was too big for him. He couldn't possibly be the one behind all of this. And yet here they were, Junmyeon confronted him, and now what?

 

"If you have been waiting for me, too . . . then why don't you go ahead and tell me what this is about?" Junmyeon dared to ask, surprised at the steel in his voice. He would have expected himself to sound as weak as he felt, a shaky, almost faint voice failing to express itself. It gave him a little more confidence, now, but it didn't change how he felt.

 

Baekhyun played with the buttons on his coat's sleeve. "You're not one for a little chat. Anymore, I believe. But I knew that already. Let's see, then."

 

Baekhyun got up, and Junmyeon leaned back, startled. Baekhyun showed no reaction whatsoever to that response, and continued walking into the white.

 

Junmyeon noticed a slight limp to Baekhyun's walk, and Baekhyun didn't stop playing with the buttons. It looked like a nervous tick, and Junmyeon guessed Baekhyun's limp to have been injury induced.

 

Junmyeon attempted to get up, but his feet failed him. He fell to the ground, the sound not stopping Baekhyun. _What if I can't catch up, and he doesn't return?_ Junmyeon panicked. Pearls of sweat formed on his forehead as he tried once more to stand up and follow Baekhyun. This time, he was successful, though incredibly wobbly on his knees. The solution to his problem, and the problem itself was walking away from him. Junmyeon didn't know if he could catch up. He was already short of breath from just getting up, and he takes a few steps into Baekhyun's direction.

 

He feels as though heavy weights had been tied to his legs, and as he forced himself to continue walking, the environment flashed quickly to show the part of Limbo where he had followed Jongin and Sehun into the woods. Baekhyun was replaced by Jongin and Sehun for a second, and the whites of the walls and everything else was suddenly soft grass and summer weather. He could have sworn he felt Chanyeol's hand in his, but before he could assure himself of that, the environment had already disappeared.

 

Baekhyun stopped, giving Junmyeon enough time and less effort to catch up to him. Junmyeon was wary, but there was no other choice. Baekhyun, None, was here, and he was talking, and Junmyeon was the one not cooperating. What was he doing?

 

Once he got to Baekhyun's side, Baekhyun looked up from his buttons. "I'm cooperating."

 

Without any other word, Baekhyun resumed his path, this time with Junmyeon in tow. But it didn't look like there was an end to it, and Junmyeon feared he would have to force himself to walk along Baekhyun until he dropped dead to the floor.

 

"No worries," Baekhyun then said.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They just kept walking. There was no end. Infinite.

 

"No worries," Baekhyun said again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Baekhyun stopped. He looked at Junmyeon, who did his best to hold his gaze even though he felt as though he was going to fall unconscious any moment. His sides burned, as much as his lungs did, as if he had run a marathon and was unprepared. He never needed his healing factor more than now. "You want to know why you're here."

 

Junmyeon nodded. Speaking was a chore. Any strength that he still had, left his body now.

 

“I wanted to talk to you. But nobody in the facility let me. I was taken to the facility because apparently, I unsettled my family in a _supernatural_ sense. I did not understand that. I was expected to do impossible things in the laboratories. And when I realized that I was not the only one there, there was somebody like me who had to live similar things, I thought that we could be friends.” Baekhyun spoke lightly. He didn’t have any troubles sharing his experiences. He was laying everything out now, and Junmyeon knew that he was speaking the truth.

 

“In the meantime, I was forced through a number of tests. They all seem pointless to me. I apparently have a power that they want to measure, and find its limit for. But I was not cooperating, they said."

 

Baekhyun sighed, then rose an eyebrow. "How am I supposed to cooperate, if I'm not told what I had to do? So I never did anything. It started getting particularly bad when the scientists got . . . you know, physical with me, and then I was asked to kill people. Absolute madness! I refused to kill people, they said 'Baekhyun do it with your mind' and I asked 'How?'"

 

He was starting to get louder, and his soft facial features were given a makeover; Baekhyun's eyes widened, and he looked almost angry now. "But they just expected me to know. Even if I did, I wasn't going to _kill people_ , I'm not crazy! And then I found out that when I refuse to do it, you are tasked with it instead. And you seem to be able to do it with no problems at all."

 

"I refused to kill anyone. I refused to use this power that I was supposed to have, but it interested me that the tasks were passed on to you. That's how I found out about you. And then I didn't care about the punishment that followed anymore, because you were there." Baekhyun smiled softly. Junmyeon was unsure of how to feel.

 

"So, I built Limbo. I didn't know that this was the power I have, the power they wanted me to use all this time. So when I started working on Limbo, letting all my experiences pose as crucial components for Limbo, they thought that I was finally giving in. That I stopped resisting, and finally used this mutation. But I only did it because I wanted to meet you. I thought we could escape together."

 

Junmyeon shuffled in place. He had learned that Baekhyun was a project at the facility like him. But he had never understood his ambitions, why Baekhyun was doing this to him. And now he was told that Baekhyun had created Limbo solely for him?

 

"You know, Jaemin has a very individual way of thinking. Even though everything plays by my rules here, he managed to sneak to you before you were set to meet me. I will have to admit that this scares me," Baekhyun continued, "because it looks like I don't know if I can truly control everything."

 

"Anyway, I had to interrupt Jaemin. He started his sentence with 'My mom wants you to know that when the facility burned down', but I didn't give him the chance to continue. Well, he meant to say: 'My mom wants you to know that when the facility burned down, None was evacuated and unable to flee with you'. What do you think?"

 

Junmyeon didn't know. He didn't know anything. Had he been supposed to come back for him? Either leave with him or stay? Baekhyun must be mad, to think that it would have worked. And he had not even known of Baekhyun's existence.

 

"You think that you didn't, Junmyeon, stop lying to yourself. Miss Seulgi gave you my files. And Joohyun spoke to you about me, because she trusted me. I told her that if we were to bond, we could be so strong. And I still think that, no hard feelings."

 

"No hard feelings? Then why are you doing this to me?” Junmyeon almost choked on his own words, the difficulty to speak intensifying.

 

Baekhyun pointed at him. “Question right back at you.”

 

“I don’t understand—” Junmyeon stopped when Baekhyun’s eyebrows shot up. His opponent put one hand up his sleeve and shifted his weight from one leg to the other, staring at Junmyeon.

 

“Whenever you killed somebody, _I_ ended up being punished. But you know what? Let’s stray away from that for now. Why did you kill them?”

 

Lungs burning, Junmyeon managed to respond. “I had no choice. The trigger scent—”

 

“—isn’t real. I was really disappointed when you came here.” Baekhyun paused, and shook his head to remove a strand of hair in his eyes. “You’re programmed to _think._ But your reactions are up to you.”

 

Baekhyun continued when Junmyeon didn’t give a reply. “You were told that the trigger scent causes this reaction. So when you smell it, you think that it’s supposed to happen, so it does. You do that yourself. How about you give resistance a try? You haven’t tried once. Are you catching onto what I’m saying?”

 

He had a vague idea, but that would only make the guilt more unbearable.

 

“It means that you didn’t have to kill those people. Nobody has that much control over you, Junmyeon. All you had to do, when you smelled it, was to ignore it. That’s all it took. But instead, you took innocent—or not—lives, and pulled _me_ into it as well.” Baekhyun pulled his pants up and played with the rim of his belt. Then he ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his jacket. He fidgeted a lot, one nervous tick after the other.

 

“But I mean . . . It’s not really your fault. Being honest.” Baekhyun admitted, and pressed his lips together. They were a bright pink, and it made him look innocent and sweet. But Junmyeon knew that he wasn’t.

 

“What do you want from me?” Junmyeon simply asked, and swallowed dryly. There wasn’t much left for him to say. He had been burning to meet Baekhyun, but now he was just drained. There was nothing he wanted, anymore.

 

“Cheer up, I’m nice.” Baekhyun smiled, and Junmyeon was tempted to look away. Limbo had started out curious and pretty, but things had soon taken a turn for the worse. He couldn’t imagine bonding with the person who almost took Chanyeol, or maybe _did_ take Chanyeol when he wasn’t there, so he had a hard time believing that Baekhyun was actually nice.

 

Baekhyun understood that, though. Baekhyun knew everything. “That wasn’t my fault. I intended for Limbo to be a good experience.”

 

“Then what was Jongin all about? Chanyeol? The house?”

 

“Not my fault. Jongin is Jongin, that had to happen. That was a wake-up call, which I admit was my fault. But the rest occured because Chanyeol fell into the river.”

 

“What?” Junmyeon’s knees almost gave away. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to stand much longer.

 

Baekhyun cracked his fingers, pressing the digits against the opposite ones from the other hand and took turns cracking them left and right. “You try and create a world. It can’t be perfect. Joohyun told you that I had to channel all bad energy into the river, did you forget? Chanyeol falling into it and following you on your journey brought bad things. I didn’t want to meet you like this.”

 

But it was casual talking. In essence. Looking past Junmyeon’s pain and their circumstances, this truly wasn’t how he would have imagined talking to Baekhyun would go. There had to be more to it, it couldn’t be this simple. And it couldn’t be that everything was his fault.

 

But it looked like it. He knew what Baekhyun was trying to say, he wanted to explain that only Junmyeon’s misbehaviour got them into the situation they were in now. And when Junmyeon had been given the opportunity to flee, he did not even bother to take Baekhyun with him.

 

There had to be more. He hadn’t known Baekhyun. There was no way it was his fault. Junmyeon had fought for his life as well, he had been trapped and experimented with just like Baekhyun was. If anything, Junmyeon _understood._ But exactly this was the problem.

 

There wasn’t much to say left. Junmyeon’s heart was now on the verge of exploding, the beat so sporadic yet violent at the same time—grabbing Junmyeon and caging him. Baekhyun did not think much of it, he knew. He was looking up, cross-eyed as he tried to follow his fingers fixing his hair into strands. When Baekhyun was satisfied, he straightened his gait again and pulled at his jacket, then cracked his neck. Baekhyun was going about everything, normally. Meanwhile Junmyeon was dying beside him.

 

Chanyeol appeared in the corner of Junmyeon’s eyes, and had grabbed him before the latter could do anything. His bones were heavy, his heart was slow—Junmyeon was exhausted, and devastated at the same time.

 

The sight of Chanyeol did not better his situation.

 

In fact, Chanyeol made it worse. Because Chanyeol grabbed his face and pressed his lips to Junmyeon’s, and that was all.

 

It did not mean anything, because it was not supposed to. Yet Junmyeon ran wild on the inside. Chanyeol had separated their bodies as fast as he had connected them, and Junmyeon was left thinking a race of thoughts, Baekhyun’s chuckling resonating in his ears.

 

“That was kind of weird, wasn’t it?” Baekhyun mused, his eyes piercing holes into Junmyeon's skin. Chanyeol swiveled around and stood by Junmyeon's side, but Junmyeon couldn't quite fathom what just happened.

 

"Weird, weird," Baekhyun was thinking, squinting at them. "Let's try something else."

 

Chanyeol was gone as soon as he had appeared.

 

"Looks like we have to take the boring route, but really, it's necessary." Baekhyun fumbled with the button on his coat aggressively while he spoke, until it came off. He sighed and threw the bottom to the ground, a few threads of yarn falling to the ground in slow motion with it. Instead of playing with buttons, his hair or his coat, Baekhyun was now absentmindedly scratching the back of his hands with long, manicured fingernails.

 

Junmyeon heard soft mumbling. Paranoia overcame him, and he looked around for its source, but he simply hadn't noticed that it was Baekhyun who mumbled 'How do I do this?' over and over again. Baekhyun closed his eyes, and for a while nothing happened.

 

He thought about how easy it was. Junmyeon thought that if he set his mind to it, it would be so easy to take care of Baekhyun and all of this would be over. He didn't even have to use his claws. He could make a leap forward instead, and squeeze his hands around his throat—

 

"You're having the thoughts again," Baekhyun didn't open his eyes. "And there's not even trigger scent here. Talk about trigger scent forcing you to kill."

 

He was right, and Junmyeon hadn't considered a different shade to it; if he truly were to succeed in killing Baekhyun, what would be next? He could be trapped here forever. The consequences could be more fatal than what he had experienced in Limbo so far. And the cherry on top of the cake was . . .

 

". . . that through Wong Yukhei and Lee Taeyong, a few minutes ago, I tried to show you a different side to yourself. But you're not learning," Baekhyun threw into Junmyeon's thought process, "and that's a problem."

 

Baekhyun looked up, and their eyes locked for a brief moment. It was Junmyeon who had to look away. Arms stiff at his side, a tingling feeling on his lips, Junmyeon couldn't do anything but watch. If he were to leap forward and do what he he had contemplated, he could ruin everything. And apparently, it was his fault in the first place.

 

"Three, two, one," Baekhyun counted, squinting as he looked around, "C, B, A." Baekhyun took a few steps towards Junmyeon, and Junmyeon couldn't react. His calves were burning, and the sting of where he had hit Wong Yukhei with the toe claw made itself felt. "Daegu, Yangsan, Busan."

 

 _Yangsan,_ Junmyeon thought. He had recognized the Yangsan Tower behind Yerim in one of the pictures. Byun Yerim. Byun Baekhyun. "Baekhyun, Minseok, Jongdae."

 

Junmyeon wanted to curl himself up into a ball. "Here we go," Baekhyun breathed, pearls of sweat glistening on his forehead. Baekhyun was close, merely a few steps away from Junmyeon, and Junmyeon could feel his body heat from where he stood. "Finally."

 

The white setting melted away, and the infinite walls revealed a place that had grown foreign to Junmyeon in a short period of time. He recognized the stone walls of the underground laboratories, and Baekhyun had melted into the environment with it.

 

Junmyeon was alone, in a room that he would not have expected to see again. But here it was, and seated at one of the enormous desks was Chanyeol, bowed over paperwork. Glasses placed high on his nose, Chanyeol's concentrated squinting, the familiar white of a lab coat--Chanyeol's head fell onto the table. Junmyeon hesitated when he took a few steps closer, to where Baekhyun had stood. Chanyeol straightened himself again, taking his head into his hands.

 

"This is what is happening right now." Baekhyun's voice sounded from next to him, and Junmyeon turned to face him. Baekhyun wasn't looking at Chanyeol at all. "Not Limbo. This is Chanyeol at this very moment. What do you think?"

 

What do you think what do you think what do you think what do you think what do you think what do you think, he didn't know. Junmyeon simply didn't know.

 

Junmyeon decided to do something reckless. He grabbed Baekhyun by his coat, but he didn't do anything. Baekhyun's hand brushed against his, where he had grabbed Baekhyun by his sleeve, and his hands were surprisingly rough and dry. Baekhyun didn't pull away. Junmyeon saw that Baekhyun was biting the inside of his cheek, chewing on it nervously.

 

"What do you think?" Baekhyun repeated, not breaking eye contact with Junmyeon. Truth was, Junmyeon thought a lot of things. Good things, bad things, and everything in between. But his problem was, that if he dwelled on any of those thoughts . . . one way or the other, Baekhyun would find a way to make everything his fault. Was it his fault? Was it Baekhyun's? Did they share the guilt? That, he didn't know, but Baekhyun was too good at making him feel horrible.

 

Rightfully.

 

"Rightfully," Baekhyun echoed.

 

Junmyeon took another moment to contemplate his reply. "What is this?"

 

"Does it really matter? Take a guess," his opponent grabbed his wrist. The rough skin of Baekhyun's hands rubbed against his hand, almost reassuringly, but Junmyeon pulled away.

 

"You're making all of this up . . ." Junmyeon spoke too slowly, his mouth not catching up on the things his brain asked him to say. "But what does it mean?"

 

"I want to show you what our life is like, from my perspective. Your life was so similar. You left me behind, and that's no problem, now. So why is it that you still don't understand?" Baekhyun pointed at Chanyeol. Then he opened his arms to highlight their surroundings.

 

The laboratory. Chanyeol wore a name tag, his authority pass clipped to the lab coat,

 

"and Chanyeol is a mutant. This is a mutant research facility. One that happens to torture mutants, you and me, imminent examples. The only ones so far, but that didn't have to stay like this. Junmyeon, you're truly so slow. Don't you think Chanyeol is _terribly_ out of place?"

 

Junmyeon didn't think but walked over to Chanyeol. Chanyeol was signing a few papers, his eyes were red and swollen. “He is. He shouldn’t be here.”

 

“Are you agreeing with me?” Baekhyun’s voice was lighter, excited. Junmyeon wanted to regret his words, but Baekhyun was faster. “I knew you would. You know, don’t be hesitant to voice your thoughts. I thought you learned a thing or two from me, there. Tell me more.”

 

 _Tell me more?_ Junmyeon was busy trying to come up with a plausible reason for Chanyeol to be here, someone betraying his own kind? That couldn’t be it, Junmyeon had experienced him differently. The tingling on his lips returned, but this time, the feeling wasn’t close to positive. Chanyeol was right there, letting tears drip onto the paperwork he was taking care of. And Junmyeon had an idea.

 

“Does everyone know?” Junmyeon asked, turning around to find Baekhyun pulling at his eyelashes. He stopped, looking at Junmyeon as if to ask him to repeat the question. Then he caught on it, and pressed his lips together. “Well. Not necessarily.”

 

Before Junmyeon could speak, Baekhyun continued. “I mean, it looks like Chanyeol knows, although that wasn’t my intention. And Jaemin does, too. I don’t know how he did it but he manipulated Limbo, so he could talk to you. And that’s . . . everyone. Nobody else knows of Limbo.”

 

“Why does Chanyeol know, if it wasn’t your intention?”

 

Baekhyun frowned. “I don’t know.”

 

“I see. It looks like Chanyeol is really shaken by it.” Junmyeon folded his arms. “You’re hurting him, too. Was _that_ your intention?"

 

Baekhyun took a few moments to reply. He fidgeted around, and stepped closer to Junmyeon. He was awfully close, almost leaning on him with his back against Junmyeon as Baekhyun examined Chanyeol. Junmyeon's wounds were burning hotter when Baekhyun closed the distance between them. "Partially. You're not the only one who wants to understand. I want to understand, too. Why is Chanyeol here?"

 

"You know everything, Baekhyun." The name felt so intimate and personal on Junmyeon's tongue, leaving his lips smoothly but there was a dangerous feeling to it. Sharp and smooth at the same time, saying the name gave Junmyeon a strange feeling of comfort. Like home, but different. Baekhyun wasn't home. Baekhyun was different. And the way he spoke irritated Junmyeon, for his words sounded like he had known Baekhyun all his life. Perhaps that was true.

 

The man stepped away from him, and took a seat next to Chanyeol instead. Chanyeol did not react or move in any way, his gaze focused on the paper in front of him, stained with tears and memories of things that didn't happen.

 

"I know a lot of things. I don't have access to everything." Baekhyun's voice was low, bordering on a whisper. His explanation was lacking, but Junmyeon tried to understand.

 

Now, Junmyeon could not do much but bite down on the pain that was still cooking inside of him. He forced himself to settle on a chair across from Baekhyun and Chanyeol, and watched Chanyeol closely as he scribbled something onto the paper. Chanyeol's phone chimed, and the display lit up in his chest pocket. Before Chanyeol could react, Baekhyun had already put his hand inside and taken the phone.

 

Junmyeon froze. Baekhyun had imminently messed with the current happenings. But Chanyeol was unbothered, he continued writing as if he hadn't just tried to take his phone and read a message he had received.

 

Baekhyun leaned back in his seat and read the message for him. His thumbs hovered over the display, in circles, and Baekhyun cracked his knuckles against the phone. "Interesting."

 

He tapped the phone quickly, and then leaned over the table. Junmyeon winced and backed off, but Baekhyun just sighed. "Relax. Here."

 

He held out the phone for Junmyeon to take, and he saw that a call was running. Junmyeon hesitated in taking the phone and speaking with whoever was on the other side.

 

Baekhyun's eyes lay upon him, daring him to hold the phone to his ears. It was plain, the feeling that chilled Junmyeon to the bone when he picked it up. So chill, that it cooled the burning wounds drawn on his body and extinguished the flames in his stomach. Plain.

 

"Yes?" Junmyeon whispered, eyes not detaching from Baekhyun. Chanyeol went about his business right next to them without noticing anything.

 

"Please help me, my name is Kim Jongdae, please help me!" A panicked voice replied, fast and loudly. Junmyeon's eyes widened, and Baekhyun leaned in to hear. He knew already.

 

"I'm--I'm somewhere in Daegu, and I can't leave my apartment. People are coming for me but I have done nothing wrong! You need to believe me that I have done nothing wrong! They want to kill me but I'm innocent, I swear!" The man practically yelled into his ear, hyperventilating. Junmyeon could basically feel his fear himself.

 

Baekhyun sighed. "Are you playing prison again? How many times do I have to tell you that you can play literally anything, just not this game?"

 

I'm usually lenient with a number of things, but I seriously dislike this game

 

Junmyeon knew exactly it meant.

 

"I was going to get the hell out of here, but I can't leave my apartment. Please help me, please help me, I can't die now, like this. Please, I beg of you."

 

"Kim Jongdae," Junmyeon tried to calm him down. He had every right to be upset and scared, but he needed to tell him this.

 

"Ye-Yes?"

 

"I don't know if I can help you." Junmyeon hung up. He slid the phone over the table, and Baekhyun stopped and grabbed it.

 

"Are you crazy?" Baekhyun said. "You have to talk to him."

 

"No. I don't. I have to talk to you. Kim Jongdae, I know why he's here. And I know that he's not in serious danger if you don't want him to be." Junmyeon pronounced every word clearly, his voice sounding strong and convinced. He understood. He had already understood. Baekhyun knew everything. Baekhyun was able to do anything. There was no time for more demonstrations of his power. _Junmyeon understood._

 

"You've been doing nothing but damage your entire life, Junmyeon, and this one chance you get to be better, you refuse?" Baekhyun scoffed, the very subtle and fragile features of his skin distorting to display disgust and hatred. "Shame on you."

 

Junmyeon nodded. He came to accept something. It left a hollow feeling inside of his chest, flaring up to expand throughout his entire torso, something mighty creeping into it with elegance. Seeing Baekhyun's obvious hatred towards him made everything worse, and the emptiness almost roared inside of him. It was Baekhyun's doing. _No matter what you do, you can't win._ "Shame on me."

 

This was a moment that let Baekhyun appear in a completely different light. For this moment, Baekhyun didn't fidget around, none of his nervous ticks filling the silence with motion. It was just Junmyeon, accepting himself, and Baekhyun, shaming him. Silently. Both.

 

It didn't suit him. _That face he's making, it doesn't suit him,_ Junmyeon thought. Baekhyun's face was a gentle one. By simply looking at him, Junmyeon would have never thought that his heart was filled with so much hatred. Baekhyun insisted that it wasn't revenge, his ambition to make Junmyeon understand and feel. It was . . . self-discovery. Through Junmyeon. In order to understand himself, he wanted to talk to Junmyeon, built a world and a heart for Junmyeon, the person who left him behind and made everything worse. Baekhyun told him that.

 

"You're going to call him again. Now. And you will listen to him, and do as he asks." Baekhyun ordered, every word he spoke heavy and dark. Baekhyun slid the phone back to him.

 

"I can do that. It's not going to help you, though." Junmyeon saw that Kim Jongdae was already calling again.

 

Baekhyun didn't look convinced. "It _is_ going to help me. You don't even know why he is of importance to me."

 

"It's a big deal," Junmyeon said, "the first person you have to kill. I know that, I've been through it. Are you nervous?"

 

Junmyeon was ashamed for his words now, not for refusing to help someone at the end of a phone line. Chanyeol was here, and although he wasn't listening, his throat felt dry when he spoke of such a matter like it didn't mean anything. Chanyeol rose to his feet-- _he heard me_ \--and walked away. Out of the door. And then there were two.

 

"How do you know that? How do you know that Jongdae is--" Baekhyun's face flared up with anger, but he didn't finish his sentence. He fell back into his seat, burying his face into his hands. "I'm fucking Limbo up. I'm fucking this up, like everything else. How do you know that, and why am I not aware of it?  How do you know that? Why do you know all of these things, I didn't tell you. Why are you thinking things I didn't allow you to think. You are dead. You are not real anymore. Why did you say that? Why did you know? You are dead."

 

The empty feeling inside of him retreated, the gigantic hole shrinking and shrinking until Junmyeon didn't feel like the center of the universe. He gasped and fell forward, startling Baekhyun.

 

"Why did you say that?" Baekhyun repeated, the surprise on his face fading away, back into anger.

 

"Get it over with," Junmyeon sighed into the table. His body was shaking slightly. Baekhyun was the calm before the storm, it was obvious. He didn't know why he had said what he did. He was feeling Baekhyun expanding his might inside of his soul, from gentle to angered the entire ambiente flipped upside down and worked against Baekhyun instead. Baekhyun was upset at himself.

 

"Get it over with what?" Baekhyun rose to his feet and towered over Junmyeon, disbelief tainting his face red. "Why do you know things that I don't?"

 

The phone was still buzzing on the table. With every vibration, it moved slightly more into Baekhyun's direction. In his rage, Baekhyun picked it up. "What do you want from me?" There was something in his voice--shaky. Junmyeon couldn't believe that the person powerful enough for Limbo was scared.

 

The hollowness of his soul was gone now, but Junmyeon feared that it would be back. Baekhyun was out of control. He straightened his back, and stood.

 

Baekhyun's eyes widened and the anger was completely washed away. "Are you leaving? Why are you leaving?"

 

"I can't leave. I don't know how. I want to help you." Junmyeon weighed his words carefully, pronouncing each word with exactly the feeling that he wanted to convey. He wanted to help him. Not Kim Jongdae. If Baekhyun was satisfied, the stranger would be alright. "That is what you have been looking for, isn't it?"

 

Baekhyun threw the phone to the ground.

 

"Park, is everything alright?" A voice sounded from the corridor, and Jongin's head appeared in the door. Junmyeon and Baekhyun froze as Jongin scanned the room for his colleague, then he left again.

 

It was proof. Nobody was supposed to notice.

 

"I can't control my powers. I don't know how it works and I don't know who I should ask. You see, Junmyeon, my powers are—I'm supposed to know everything. It's a burden. It's a burden. It's a burden. I don't know how to control my powers." Baekhyun was hysterical. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he did not look trist. He was clutching his stomach, bending over out of fear.

 

"It pains you because . . . you know everything, you can do everything, but the only thing that you _do not_ know is how to deal with these powers. And you can't ask anybody for help because if you don't know, who else will? You're stuck." Junmyeon was back on earth with both feet. All pain was gone. And whatever negative feelings he had towards Baekhyun were, too.

 

In the short time he had spent in Baekhyun's presence—although he had been there in Limbo all along—he would have never once thought Baekhyun to be menacing. He was a lot of things, confused above all, but not menacing. His appearance was gentle and his words had been kind. It was only when Junmyeon refused to take his destiny from him that Baekhyun had changed, changed to someone that couldn't feel anything but anger. And allowed sadness to crush into him when he realized that the person he was blaming turned into a mirror. Baekhyun was a lot of things. Menacing wasn't one of them.

 

Baekhyun agreed. His hectic nodding and expression, Baekhyun agreed. "What am I going to do, Junmyeon?"

 

Truth was, Junmyeon didn't know. He had come to realize a lot of things, but only what it meant to be here. What came after this was a pit--dark and unknown. Inevitably Baekhyun's future, dubiously his own. Finding out what Baekhyun was _already_ doing posed as the most sensible approach.

 

"You have full control. I might not have been in control over myself at all times, but you can be different." All words Junmyeon spoke from now on were to be comforting, reassuring, calming. Baekhyun was capable of ending everything with the blink of an eye.

 

"I don't want to be different," Baekhyun's reply was a mumble. "I want to understand. I thought making you understand would help me."

 

Sounds resonated from outside the room. Voices rose and fell. Loud steps, thousands of feet on marble floor, sounded from left to right and from right to left.

 

Junmyeon headed for the door to check what was happening. _Nobody would be able to see me,_ was his thought, but Baekhyun thought something else. "Don't go."

 

"I'm not planning to--" But as soon as Junmyeon had stepped foot beyond the room, he was pulled in by a crowd of people heading to their workspace as fast as they could.

 

People threw him around, Junmyeon unable to properly stand and his feet missing a stable stance repeatedly. He was squeezed between bodies and faces, but no one noticed him. He was thrown to the ground, and he quickly rose again to avoid being stepped on. Looking behind him, Junmyeon was unable to spot Baekhyun's face among those in the crowd. How were they able to touch him? Baekhyun had only projected Junmyeon and himself to this place.

 

There were thousands of voices fighting for dominance, scientists and guards talking to their colleagues about how to proceed and what will happen next? He was dragged with them, forced to listen to bits and pieces of their plans, and all Junmyeon could hope was that it hadn't affected Baekhyun, and that Baekhyun was alright back in the room.

 

But as the crowd moved, this main corridor branched into different rooms, halls, and smaller paths, and soon the crowd lightened. The flood of people was reduced to a normal amount of them in regular working conditions, after most people had found their way to their positions. Junmyeon was able to walk on his own now, and going back to search for Baekhyun would be easy now.

 

He was too close. And he saw, the reason why he couldn't go back.

 

A wall like the one on the pictures. The narrow window stretched across it, and a few people were peeking through it. He was close, right in front of it, able to see what was going on inside without trouble.

 

It was Baekhyun.

 

His room was blinking red, the light faded to allow the whites of the room to shine brighter and returned to dip it into a shade of danger. He was clutching his stomach on the floor, shaking violently as his eyes fluttered open but he forced them shut again. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and silent wails left his mouth. Junmyeon pressed his fingers against the wall and stared through the glass, his nose almost touching the dusty surface. He couldn't help but let the image of Baekhyun doing the exact same project itself into his brain.

 

Baekhyun was twisting and jerking around, his face red and his lips so dry they could crumble off. How much pain was he in? Was Junmyeon the cause of it?

 

He remembered something similar happening to him. His mother had rushed into the room, but nobody was here to aid Baekhyun. None of the scientists got inside to comfort him, None of them. None of the people who were responsible for Baekhyun cared enough to try and take his suffering. Junmyeon thought.

 

Moments of helpless watching later, three slim figures ran into the room and crouched next to Baekhyun. Junmyeon recognized Jaemin's face right away. As the boy tried to set Baekhyun upright, saying things that Junmyeon couldn't hear, he made out Mark and Chenle's faces. _A good friend of ours is sick. He can’t leave his bed, and he’s dependent on us. He doesn’t quite take care of himself, and doesn’t want other people other than his parents and us around_. Of course.

 

The boys were battling Baekhyun, trying to help him to calm down, but it only seemed to get worse. Jaemin realized this, and told the others to back off and talk to Baekhyun from a distance. Junmyeon felt useless as he watched, guilt devouring him and revealing nausea.

 

Something moved against his arm, and when Junmyeon looked, he found Baekhyun. Looking at him.

 

Baekhyun had done the absolute most he could. He wrote letters. He made requests. He held onto the tiny spark of hope that sounded so simple, as if it couldn't help at all, but had still filled him with so much strength. _Meet and talk to Junmyeon._ He had wanted to help him. Now, the roles were reversed; it was time for Junmyeon to help Baekhyun, but what was he doing? Exactly. Nothing.

 

"It's always getting worse and worse," Baekhyun whispered next to him. "That's what's making me feel this way. Limbo, standing here and talking to you, my physical self is unable to take it. It's been like this since you left. The scientists call it _progress._ "

 

It wasn't progress. It was torture. And Junmyeon was responsible.

 

"I'm selfish," Baekhyun said out of the blue. His eyes wandered up and down on Junmyeon's body, then flickered past him and returned. "I only think about myself."

 

"That's not true, you spent all these years trying to talk to and help me--" Junmyeon was interrupted.

 

"For my own benefit. I could have simply healed you and let you go. It's been seven months, you could have had a new start," Baekhyun's voice lagged, heavy. "I'm selfish."

 

"Now we're both trapped." Baekhyun added, and it sent a chill down Junmyeon's spine. He tried his best to protest and stop himself from looking at Baekhyun's tortured self. That was selfish. "What are you saying, we both have a chance--"

 

"We don't. Don't talk. Watch." Baekhyun's eyes were droopy, almost closing as he stared through the window to watch himself. He wasn't doing anything. How could any emotion draw such a physical reaction? Junmyeon felt panic crawling into him as he turned his attention back to what was happening beyond the glass. How could Baekhyun be feeling? How could he make it stop? It was almost painful watching Baekhyun projecting his interior feelings onto his physical appearance. As if a shell melted away, and what was left was the empty core that was the Baekhyun next to him.

 

Steps sounded again, and this time it was only one person. Junmyeon saw Chanyeol; Chanyeol, running down the corridor with two files in his hands and strict determination in his eyes. As he rushed past, Junmyeon was able to take a glimpse at the writing on one of the folders. Weapon X: X'O. He wanted to do something, but--

 

"Ever since you left," Baekhyun was quick to distract him from Chanyeol. "I have been the main focus. Everything got worse. I want to join you."

 

"How are you going to join me? Do it, no hesitation, if you can." It could be over soon. It didn't matter if it meant having Baekhyun by his side, it didn't matter at all; if it was over now, Junmyeon would take anything. He couldn't win. It was always his fault.

 

"We can join forces," Baekhyun responded immediately. "Become one. It's the only way I can think of. It can make everything stop."

 

The wall vibrated slightly against Junmyeon's fingers. At the other side of the room, faces he had never even seen before took off their headphones in agony. Jaemin, Chenle and Mark were covering their ears, but every sound that could be coming from the room was inaudible.

 

"I'm still being selfish," Baekhyun let his head hit against the glass and he closed his eyes; his physical self, at this very moment, cried in return. It was impossible to simply _feel_ this way. No, it was possible. "Never once in my life have I considered what you want."

 

"I don't want anything," Junmyeon tried to assure him. But that was a lie; he wanted to find to a peaceful time, like he had lived with Chanyeol, hopefully with Chanyeol. He wanted to disassociate with everything the facility ever bore, but he couldn't voice those thoughts. "Just tell me what I need to do."

 

"You can't possibly imagine what it would take. I'm making progress. _Progress,_ Junmyeon. I'm forever in their hands," Baekhyun breathed in sharply. "Could you imagine putting your child into these circumstances?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I scared my parents. They said I could harm my sister. And the only solution they found was this fucking place," Baekhyun covered his face with his hands, "Ripping me apart. What - do - I - have - to - do."

 

Junmyeon bit his lips. He was useless, once again. He was unable to do anything. As always, Junmyeon was nothing more than a burden. If he had never left this place, Baekhyun could have been better. He wouldn't be feeling this way.

 

But he had left EXODUS because his mother wanted him to. Nothing he had ever done here had particularly been his choice, and that included leaving.

 

Baekhyun looked at him. "I don't know anything."

 

“I know less, Baekhyun. We can join forces. What do I have to do?” Junmyeon did his best. He couldn’t do much, he’d never done much. It was time.

 

"It's . . ." Baekhyun grabbed Junmyeon's wrist. His touch was hot, burning into his skin. Junmyeon took a glance at the twisting and screaming Baekhyun inside, Jaemin rolled up next to him while the other two boys kept banging at the door to be let out.

 

"You don't have to do anything," Baekhyun continued, and the depth of his eyes was astounding. If Junmyeon just kept looking, perhaps he would find the secrets of the entire universe. _How must that feel,_ Junmyeon thought, _to carry the weight of everything that is?_ The answer was simple, though unfathomable. Through the glass and on the floor, the answer was found. It felt like that. But how?

 

It took Junmyeon longer than expected to realize what Baekhyun was implying.

 

He didn't mean fighting on one side, helping each other when they were in need of it. He understood what Baekhyun meant when he called himself selfish, almost shameful. It wasn't about helping each other, it was about _becoming one._

 

Could he be a part of Baekhyun? Physically, mentally? Was it possible to disregard the future his mother worked hard for, his own life? He wanted to find a way that made both of their lives work. That could allow Baekhyun to leave, and he could resume his path to a better place.

 

Baekhyun wanted them to become one. But there had to be a different way. Baekhyun's grip around his wrist was hot steel, burning as if he wanted to detach his hand from his body. "Baekhyun, wait."

 

"What do I have to wait for? I have been waiting my entire life," Baekhyun responded, and the ground below them buzzed. The feeling tickled the bottom of Junmyeon's feet, and it buzzed so violently that it almost moved them.

 

"I will take you with me. I will return and take you with me, that's what you wanted, right?" Junmyeon's proposition was a heavy one, and one that he couldn't quite understand himself. It would be difficult to break into the facility, and the trouble of attempting to get Baekhyun out of there unmeasurable.

 

It was kind of pitiful. Junmyeon, whose powers were nothing in comparison to Baekhyun's, attempting to take the lead and forge a situation that saves both of them. It wouldn't be that easy.

 

"That's what I wanted . . . I wanted to be like you," Baekhyun was burning hot. Their surroundings started blurring, becoming distorted and harder to see. The details faded, and left colour without shapes. The distance started to look like an empty canvas, and inside the room was a painting.

 

Melting. Hot. "Baekhyun, this is impossible," Junmyeon finally spoke, there could be no way the two of them would fuse. That's what Baekhyun was trying to do.

 

"No, you just have to listen," Baekhyun's tone was almost begging. "You've been obeying all your life. So now, once, just once in your stupid life, listen. Don't obey, just listen."

 

Junmyeon melted into Baekhyun's touch—his body was horribly disfigured, and if it hadn't been for Baekhyun preventing it, Junmyeon was sure he would simply dissolve into nothing. Opening his eyes, Junmyeon saw the desperation in Baekhyun's face as he held onto what was left. There wasn't much left.

 

He thought a lot. Difficult, easy, good, bad things. All of it. That, he had shared with Baekhyun. For Junmyeon, it was merely a normal attribute to his being. For Baekhyun, it made his soul glitch. Baekhyun's thoughts bore consequences, and here they were, crumbling.

 

What for?

 

What for? He thought, and after all of Baekhyun's attempts to show him, Junmyeon understood. He understood. But was it truly worth it?

 

Junmyeon felt his mind ring, and Baekhyun gasped. Their minds were linked together, a product of Baekhyun's might. Junmyeon wouldn't have known. But he did now, because all Baekhyun knew, was now of Junmyeon's knowledge as well.

 

Baekhyun held the key to the universe. That was what it was, omnipotence. Baekhyun knew everything, omniscience. So how come the only thing Baekhyun never knew was how to use this power? _If_ to use this power?

 

They were one. Junmyeon leaned hard against it, but in the end, he had no choice but to surrender to Baekhyun's power. Baekhyun was not powerful. He was power itself.

 

And it was over. He was over. He was now a part of Baekhyun. _Is that what Baekhyun wanted?_ Junmyeon's final thoughts. _Is that what he wanted to achieve?_

 

.snow seen ever had he time first the was **It**

 

Beautiful, inside of Baekhyun's eyes. Nothing was left, and that was alright.

 

...

 

Jaemin ran as fast as he could. He jumped over stones that were in the way, and didn’t let the summer warmth distract him. It was hot, really, but he had a goal and a task to fulfill. The grass tickled his ankles, but Jaemin was not distracted.

 

Junmyeon’s body was stiff. Roots and ranks twisted over his body and bound him to the ground.

 

He was almost there, he could feel it. Jaemin was closing in, and he would make sure to take care of Baekhyun’s request. He and his mother would be free then, too, and he would take all of his friends with him. Mark and Chenle were staying with Baekhyun while Jaemin was out and observing. His mother was preparing their leave behind the heads’ backs. It was all perfectly planned out, and there was nothing that could go wrong. A few more months, a little bit more patience, and then they were all out of there. Baekhyun was waiting.

 

It wasn’t much further, he was sure. Jaemin jumped over a puddle and sped up a little.

 

Then, Jaemin saw him.

 

He fell to his knees as he scanned the familiar face, Junmyeon’s eyes glossy and not blinking. His breath stuttered, and Jaemin froze in place. He had never seen a dead person. Jaemin was just at the facility to cheer Baekhyun up. The scientists had  thought that perhaps a more innocent influence could trigger a reaction from Baekhyun, and indeed Baekhyun had been less tense around Jaemin and his friends. He and Jaemin had even grown quite close, behind the other’s backs and only when Kim Minseok was on guarding shift. Nothing Jaemin had ever been asked to do had been as awful as crouching down next to a corpse, a friend, potentially.

 

Jaemin could not control himself; he threw up.

 

His stomach wrenched and twisted as he bowed over and said good-bye to his breakfast. He had not eaten much, therefore vomiting was more painful than anything. He wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve when he was done, cursing under his breath.

 

He was devastated. Junmyeon was horrifying like that. But he had a job to do, and so he did what he had to. Baekhyun had told him that Junmyeon was not dead. Jaemin wanted to believe that, he really did, but seeing Junmyeon like this made way for a few doubts. _How long has he been here for, anyway?_ Baekhyun said he wasn’t dead. At least not all of him.

 

Jaemin then started tugging at the roots. They bound Junmyeon to the ground, making it difficult to move him. _Seriously, how long must he have been here for, for roots to grow thick and healthy around him?_

 

“I hate myself for this,” Jaemin mindlessly said, doing his best not to touch Junmyeon even though he knew he was going to have to once he had freed Junmyeon. “What am I even doing . . .”

 

The taste of his vomit was still ever so present, and Jaemin tried to ignore it as he worked Junmyeon free. He tugged at a particularly fat root, and it didn't give away. Jaemin stood for more stability, and with finally ripping out the root, Junmyeon flipped over. Jaemin's heart skipped a beat for a second, _what if he's still alive what the fuck_ , but then he understood that Junmyeon had been moved through the rapid movement of the thick root.

 

Jaemin wiped sweat off his forehead, and unconsciously put his tongue into the corner of his mouth in concentration as he went for the next root. His heart was beating fast in his chest, mixed feelings about his actions slowly getting to him.

 

"Honestly, it feels like you're not supposed to leave this place. Mother nature doesn't want to let you go," Jaemin joked between clenched teeth, then a chill ran down his spine. "I'm talking to a corpse. I'm crazy."

 

Soon, Junmyeon was free. It took Jaemin lots of effort and strength as the roots would simply not give in, but then Junmyeon's body was finally free and Jaemin could worry about how to proceed.

 

It was risky. He picked another day where only Kim Minseok, the best guard at the facility and head of the security department, was on shift, so nobody should see him. The scientists that had not died in the fire seven months ago were all busy preparing Baekhyun's next tests. Zhang Yixing and Do Kyungsoo were in China. Today was truly the best day, one Baekhyun had been waiting for for seven months now. And Jaemin didn't want to disappoint him.

 

Kim Minseok never reported him. He had caught him sneaking extra food into Baekhyun's room, and Jaemin had thought he was doomed. But the guard actually supported him, and since then Jaemin had been allowed to meet up with and help Baekhyun whenever he was on shift. Baekhyun was soon like an older brother to him, and when his mother agreed that they could no longer be a part of the torture of 0-0-1 and X'O, he himself couldn't stay put and watch, either.

 

It took Jaemin all his willpower to force himself and touch Junmyeon. He knew he had to, to get him back to the facility, but he was still appalled at the thought of touching a corpse. _It's just Junmyeon_ , Jaemin told himself, but that made it worse. _Just Junmyeon_ implied that it was someone he should be comfortable around, but that someone is _dead_.

 

 _How did you die?_ Jaemin thought as he wrapped his arms around Junmyeon's limp body. _Baekhyun said you didn't die._

 

Jaemin didn't question Baekhyun's knowledge. Baekhyun knew everything. He trusted Baekhyun, and because of that, he would now be dragging a corpse over a meadow, trying to find a small house somewhere in the distance. What if someone saw him, for whatever reason? How would he explain this situation?

 

He tried not to think about that. Slowly, Jaemin managed to move back. He wasn't particularly strong, just fairly slim and tall. He could gather barely enough strength to make progress and drag Junmyeon's legs over the ground while carrying his torso. Carrying Junmyeon, a well-built adult, entirely, would have been hell. And it was already bad enough that a foul smell found its way to his nose.

 

"Soon, soon," Jaemin grunted, partially into Junmyeon's hair. "Baekhyun will find a way to fix you. I'm sure of that."

 

Talking to Junmyeon like this was crazy, but there was no other way to make him feel less irritated about this. _Mom's gonna kill me_ , Jaemin sighed to himself and took a quick break. His arms were already getting sore, and he cursed himself for not being healthier and stronger. Then he grabbed Junmyeon again and resumed his walk.

 

He thought a lot. His mother would definitely not be happy if she found out about this, but he was just trying to do Baekhyun a favour. She knew him well and trusted him too, even though Baekhyun never said much, so maybe she would understand in the end. His friends would probably force him under a shower because he reeked of death. And what was going to happen to Junmyeon? He didn't know exactly, but what he did know was that they had to hide him well from Jongin, who made everything particularly difficult for them. Sehun was still trying to knock sense into him, but Jongin kept telling him that he had to stop conspiring against their workplace.

 

Jaemin looked up from the ground and saw somebody running his way. The blood froze in his veins, and Jaemin thought that he was screwed. But it was just the guard, and he relaxed with a heavy exhale through the nose.

 

"What are you doing?!" He called, stopping and staring up and down at him. "Is this . . . ?"

 

"Baekhyun told me he was nearby, so I came here. But nobody had noticed him so far, he wasn't even that well hidden. I guess nobody ever comes here." Jaemin responded, and tried to walk around Minseok, huffing with every step.

 

Minseok was speechless for a moment, but Jaemin tried to ignore him. He wasn’t helping him, after all. He cussed when Junmyeon’s leg got stuck between two rocks and twisted into a definitely unhealthy angle. Minseok bent down and freed the leg for him, but after that, Minseok couldn’t do much more but stare at Jaemin as he walked towards the house that should be waiting somewhere, a house that he believed existed because Baekhyun told him. He hadn’t been there, yet.

 

Jaemin thought a lot. Nobody would be expecting a corpse, just like he hadn’t. Baekhyun had just told him that Junmyeon was out there, alive and well. But Jaemin was cradling a dead body, and he just had to believe Baekhyun when he said that for some reason, Junmyeon was fine anyway.

 

Baekhyun had told him about Limbo, the other’s didn’t know. Everyone but two people. Jaemin and . . . Chanyeol, where Baekhyun had failed. Chanyeol remembered the events of Limbo, although they never _truly_ happened. Jaemin had his suspicions because of it, and they had been confirmed when Baekhyun informed him that Dr. Park Chanyeol was a mutant as well. The first scientist ever to try and reach out to Baekhyun, because he _understood_. From then on, things had started to look brighter for Baekhyun. For Junmyeon, he was not so sure.

 

So what would Jaemin tell his mother when he came back, after hugging Junmyeon’s body? What would he tell his friends? Or Sehun? Would they ever find out that Junmyeon had not been able to save himself, or should he stay quiet and act along? There was someone out there, clutching his phone for dear life. The priority. But Junmyeon, their long-term project, suddenly forgotten? Yes, Jaemin. What will you tell them?

 

And worst of all, what will you tell Chanyeol?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it to the end of this fic, just like Junmyeon. More or less.  
> We'll meet again.


End file.
